


Tango

by Full_Of_Shame



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Thomas Jefferson, Bottom Alexander Hamilton, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Eventual mpreg, Fluff and Angst, Français | French, Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette - Freeform, Hamilton Hermaphrodite, Hamilton References, Hamiltrash (Hamilton), Human Disaster Alexander Hamilton, Hurt Alexander Hamilton, I'm Sorry Lin-Manuel Miranda, Idiots in Love, Jamilton - Freeform, M/M, Marquis de Lafayette Speaks French, Men Crying, Mentioned John Laurens, Mpreg, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Tags May Change, Thomas Jefferson Being an Asshole, Top Thomas Jefferson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:00:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Full_Of_Shame/pseuds/Full_Of_Shame
Summary: "Please - promise me that you're not lying because I swear to you, Thomas. If you break my heart-"Alexander and Thomas have been at war for way too long. What if they gave each other a chance?
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson
Comments: 13
Kudos: 48





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Call me Hamil-trash if you want, I'm jumping on the bandwagon. I don't actually ship these characters but something in me just needs to write this story and get it out of my head. Here's an AU between Hamilton and Jefferson that will become an Mpreg. If you don't like it, just don't read it.
> 
> As I update the chapters, do leave a comment and let me know what you thought.
> 
> This story is also on Wattpad if that's what you fancy: https://www.wattpad.com/story/252460818-tango

Ever since Washington had offered Jefferson a position at the company, Alexander loathed the man. Alex had practically helped George build this firm from the ground up, he had to work for it and everything he ever had, always giving it his all. Yet here comes this pompous asshole, who's had everything in his life given to him on a silver platter, gets the job handed to him, then acts like he's the best thing since sliced bread. And walks around with a cane just for the hell of it. What the hell? 

There's nothing Alexander hated more than that attitude. Well... aside from maybe his god awful taste in fashion. The magenta loving fuck. 

Now, don't get him wrong - when they had first met, he did try to be nice to the man but apparently, the feeling wasn't mutual. Jefferson laughed in his face when he went to shake his hand and then disregarded him for the rest of the meeting. They soon came to find that they had vastly different views on many different topics, some even so mundane as to whether it was appropriate to have your sleeves pulled back at work. Needless to say, it didn't take long for the two of them to hate each other. For several years now, spending every meeting arguing and trying to sabotage the other in some way or another, mainly in front of Washington, just to try and get the other in trouble, hoping for some kind of gain. Pulling pranks on each other in the break room just to spite the other, these are usually harmless, from pouring salt in the other's fresh pot of coffee or locking the other out in a bathroom stall by turning the lock with a coin. Which, in turn, ended with one of the two parties being late for an important meeting. No-one in the company ever really understood why Washington kept them around but, they somehow turned out to be his most valuable employees. 

Now, saying that Alex could never deny that he didn't see the good aspects of Thomas Jefferson. The man was good at his job, always kept his papers clean and organized, and was Alexanders' perfect intellectual match. Surprisingly, Georges' decision to hire him did not turn out to be a mistake and turned a profit. It also didn't hurt that he was attractive. If not for his terrible suits and flashy personality, maybe Alexander wouldn't have minded him as much. 

Oh, who was he kidding, Alex couldn't get enough of Jefferson, every time he could spare a glance at the taller man he would daydream about the other's soft features yet masculine body - he was the perfect combination of cute and handsome. His eyebrows always perfectly angled, his eyes... those bottomless orbs, his nose perfectly rounded, and his lips so soft - he often wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips. What it would be like to shut down another one of his perfect arguments with just a single kiss. Not to mention his kinky hair, always perfectly set in those tight curls making it so poofy. His suits as awful as they were, were all tailored perfectly to his Adonisian body, his shoulders, broad and his waist slim, the perfect ratio. Sadly, as much as Alexander liked to fantasize about his co-worker he would often be brought back to reality every time those pillowy lips began to move.  
"Hamilton, stop starring or you'll get stuck like that, oh my apologies, seems you already have." The darker-skinned man spoke halfway through a meeting.  
Everyone else tore their eyes off of Washington and turned to look in the shorter man's direction. Alex having been brought out of his thoughts by his rival, composed himself and sat up straight but didn't retort back. 

Hamilton had been staring at Thomas for an uncomfortable amount of time now, his brows furrowed and his fingers, absentmindedly pinching his bottom lip. Thomas had noticed it a few days ago but realized he'd been doing it for an exceptionally long time that day. The taller man wondered, what was hiding behind the Caribbean man's eyes, those endless black pits, his pupils burning holes right into his soul every time he looked his way. 

What could Hamilton possibly be thinking about this whole time? 

Thomas couldn't help but notice the way the younger man's forehead creased slightly, deep in his thoughts. The way his angled nose made him look older and the way the purple bags under his eyes sagged. Thomas often wondered whether Hamilton got enough sleep, it almost worried him sometimes, but he'd never admit to it. Why would he care about Hamilton? He had laughed at him when they first met because he thought it was cute, a man like Hamilton was in such a high position as himself. He didn't dare address him the rest of the day in fear he might say something that was out of line. Ever since he had laid eyes on the man something, captivated him. Was it his drive? His passion? Maybe his stubbornness? Was it his chestnut-colored hair, his warm olive-hued skin? Or maybe it was the fact that he was average height yet somehow didn't look it. 

Whatever it may have been, Alexander Hamilton was a mystery, a very loud, annoying, and obnoxious mystery. He never shuts up and won't let Thomas get a word in edgeways. If an argument began during a meeting, everyone could be sure they would get nothing done for the rest of that day, as their bickering took up all of the remaining time they'd have. They sputter insults at each other when passing by the other's office door or simply when meeting the other's gaze. Their perpetual fight in front of Washington just to always be on top was exhausting everyone around them, yet somehow... not them. It's almost like they reveled in it, like every time they argued it gave them an energy boost - like they needed the other just to properly function at work. Everyone around them saw it, their friends saw it, their co-workers saw it but if you'd asked them, they'd tell you they couldn't care less about the other. Yet secretly they yearned for each other. 

How was it, that two men, who on the surface were professionals and kept up a healthy rivalry in their daily life, had such a strong desire for each other, without even knowing anything about it? 

"Thank you, gentlemen, you're all dismissed." Washington finally finished. 

This had been one of the few meetings where neither Alexander nor Thomas really had anything to say, which in turn gave very little to argue about. Thank god...


	2. Asshole

Alexander absolutely hated Mondays... not because he had to go to work, Alex loved his work, it was his everything, he had nothing else in his life that brought him as much satisfaction as his work. No, he hated Mondays because it meant he'd have to stare at Jefferson's face again for another 6 days in a row. Thankfully, he hadn't spotted his rainbow highness today yet, as he always made sure to come early to work so he could make himself a fresh pot of coffee and then go and work in his office all day, not having to look the other man in the face on the off chance they don't happen to have a meeting that day. That's how Alex spent most of his days trying to avoid his own thoughts.

On his end, Thomas, never really understood, why Hamilton came to work so early, no matter how much he liked his job, he wasn't willing to give up his morning routine. He never was one to rapidly get ready in the morning and then rush out the door, forgetting something on your kitchen table and realizing it only once you need it at work. Thomas could stay for long hours after work, way into the dark hours of the night, something that wasn't uncommon for Hamilton either but Thomas would always wake up at the same time in the morning, never once hitting the snooze button, then getting ready in the bathroom, and only once he was fully ready - go and prepare breakfast in the kitchen with some time to spare to get to work at a reasonable hour. How did you think he looked that good? A man has to take care of himself if he wants to keep up appearances.

"Have you seen Hamilton today, James?" Thomas asked, sitting at his desk on his overly cushy office chair.  


"And why do you even care?" Madison didn't even spare him a glance.  


"Dunno, I just always thought it interesting he comes to work so early."  


"Have you ever thought maybe he does it, so he doesn't have to see you?"  


Rather than answer, Thomas just sat there pondering, his brows furrowed and his tongue pushing at the inside of his bottom lip.  


"That's ludicrous, James." He finally uttered.  


The other man just sighed already, used to his long-time friends' big head.  


***

"Hey, Alex, have you heard? There's going to be an office party on Saturday. A freckled face spoke as it walked inside Alexander's office around lunchtime.  


"What are you saying, John? Does that mean there's no work on Saturday?" The Caribbean man looked at his friend from under his lashes.  


"Nope. None what so ever."  


"Great! I'm not coming." He deadpanned.  


"What?" John gasped. "What do you mean?"  


"Listen, John, any excuse I can find not to come here, I'll take it - besides, I don't have who to go with."  


"Hey! That's not true, you have me. And, besides, Washington's orders - he's gonna be there too, I reckon he'll notice that one of his best employees, not to say co-founders, isn't there, you feel me?"  


Alex groaned at John's words. If Washington is gonna be there, there's no way he can skip it.  


"Is there at least going to be any booze?" He asked, desperate.  


"Loads." John stated proudly.  


"Excellent, at least I'll get hammered without spending a single penny."  


And so Monday went on with the news of the office party spreading around the office like wildfire. Talks in groups echoing around the halls and the break room with no-one having anything better to do but somehow not wanting to go back to work. Monday, turning into Tuesday and Tuesday into Wednesday. Wednesday, humpday, just a couple more days, and the week is over and Alex will be able to rejoice in the notion of not having to lay his eyes on one particular person before he has to do it all over again the next week. 

That day, Alex heard the unmistakable hard knock of Jefferson's cane on his office door and they opened as soon as the knocking ceased, not even giving Alexander the time to say 'Open' revealing the taller man in all of his pompous glory.  


"Meeting in ten, Hamilton." There was no emotion in his words.  


And just as abruptly as he entered, he left not even bothering to close the door behind him, prompting a lengthy groan out of the shorter man. Why was Jefferson the one to come get him anyway? As much as he didn't want to go, he had to, so he sorted the papers on his desk a little, pushed himself back, and made his way to the conference room. Once he got there, most everyone was already sitting in their seats with Jefferson respectfully opposite his own by Washington's left while Alex was on Washington's right. The suit he wore that day was one of his more tame ones, a regular navy blue, with matching slacks, a red tie, and black dress shoes. So looking at him wasn't too much of a nightmare that day. If Alex had to be honest, he actually liked Jefferson's suit, for once it wasn't burning his eyes out, he was in fact so enthralled by the simplicity of Thomas' outfit that he hadn't even noticed George enter and start the meeting. His Boss's voice, like muffled waves against the seashore, while all he could focus on was deciphering Jefferson, going from his hands, slender fingers with perfectly manicured nails interlaced resting on the table in front of him, his suit jacket buttoned with only one button - always only one button. Why was that? His pocket square, neatly folded, a matching blood red with his satin tie, his lips closed, his nose bulbous - reflecting the light just right and his eyes... his eyes gazing ardently right back at him with a flawlessly arched brow. Wait, hold on. Jefferson was staring Alex, right in the face, shit!  
Hamilton quickly tried to look away, trying to focus on what Washington was saying but, what's done is done, Thomas had noticed. 

Having for once finally averted his gaze away from his rival, Alex listened to Georges' words and heard something along the lines of 'pay cut', had he heard that right? They couldn't do that, could they?  


"Wait, wait, hold on what? I'm sorry, Sir, did you just say you're cutting our funds." The brunette asked astounded.  


"Yes, Alex, please listen. The Government won't fund the build of our new office so as much as it pains me I find myself having to take a small amount from everyone's pay, for a couple of months to finance our project."  


"This is outrageous, you can't do that." Alex stood from his seat in defiance.  


"Yes, I can, and Yes, I will, Alex." Washington stood unwavering.  


"Hamilton, sit down." Jefferson spoke with his usual poise.  


"Shut the hell up, you asshole, you never had to work a day in your life, you don't even need this job, your voice doesn't matter."  


A wave of silence swept the entire conference room, all eyes on the trio at the end of the table.  


"Gentlemen, please-" Washington began but was quickly cut off by the onslaught of arguments.  


"I never worked a day in my- ha! You don't know what you're talking about, you self-centered bastard."  


"Oh, I'm self-centered, huh?"  


"YES!"  


"I worked hard for what I have, unlike you with a silver spoon up your ass, I won't allow this, it is unfair and unjust to those who have been with this company since the beginning giving it their all."  


"Giving it their all... That's a good one you don't even know what the word 'give' means."  


"I'm sure you know it well since everything was given to you even before you left your father's nutsack!"  


Jefferson gasped under his breath at Hamilton's crude words, even though they didn't sound that highly educated, the significance still came through.  


"I helped Washington get this place started, you were handed the job after years of my hard work! This place doesn't mean more to you than the rag with which you polish your cane."  


Hamilton finally huffed out, and once he realized how riled up he was, he looked around the room at the astonished faces of his co-workers. For a split second, embarrassment flashed across his face but, Alex didn't think about it, he pushed the thought aside and left the room in exchange for his office.


	3. What do you want, Jefferson?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French translation in the end chapter notes.

After Alex's outburst, no one really dared say anything and the meeting was promptly adjourned. Thomas himself didn't feel too good about it either. It wasn't that he said something he regretted, he had meant every word, it was what Hamilton had said that bothered him. Did he really think about him that way? I mean, he knew they hated each other but was it that bad? Sometimes when Thomas would notice Hamilton staring, he would fall into a daydream of his own, he'd think about what it would have been like had they hadn't started out on the wrong foot - Thomas knew it was his fault. But what if it had been different? Maybe they would've been friends, maybe they could've been more. Or maybe they were always destined to be rivals, and only the universe knew for sure. 

Regardless of what may have been, what they were now was not on good terms, and Thomas didn't particularly like that thought. Could it be that after so many years, Thomas Jefferson was finally tired of fighting, that he was finally tired of going at each others' throats? Could anything even be done to turn the tide after so many ardent fights?

There was only one way to find out, and you could be sure that Thomas was going to try his best. 

"Hey, Hamilton. Going to the office party on Saturday?" Jefferson strut into Alex's office, unannounced. 

He didn't particularly care, but it was some sort of conversation starter that potentially wouldn't end in a fight. 

"What do you want, Jefferson?" 

"Nothing, I'm just curious." 

"Well, Washington is going to be there, so what do you think?" Alexander asked, resigned.

"Oh, is that so? Daddy's coming so, you have to show up, huh? Wouldn't want to disappoint." He teased, a lazy grin stretching across his lips. 

At that moment, Thomas realized that if he wanted to somehow be on good terms with Hamilton, he had to restrain himself from such remarks. Alex only glared, unamused. The two of them now sat there, not knowing where this was going, Hamilton in his chair and Thomas on the edge of the younger man's mahogany desk.

"What about you? Coming? You'll put one of your worst suits on for the occasion?" Alex asked - indifferent.

Jefferson scoffed. 

"Of course not; Why would I ever waste my time on that?" 

The words left Thomas' lips without a second thought, and even if just for a split second, he could swear he saw the glint in Hamilton's eyes die down at his words, a small string tugging at his heart when he saw it. 

"Well, it was good talking to you Hamilton, I gotta go." 

Jefferson had finally decided their little interaction was enough for the day and proceeded to leave the Caribbean mans' office, this time closing the door behind him and in turn, leaving a baffled and equally stupefied Alex on the other side of it. 

***

On Thursday morning, Thomas decided he'd change things up, and instead of staying home and having breakfast at his leisure, he packed a sandwich and drove to work. He'd never been to work so early so, it felt somewhat eerie when he walked in, and no-one was there yet. That's what Hamilton does every day? Come to work to an empty office building, just to be the first person to make a pot of coffee. Sounds a bit depressing, no? 

Nevertheless, Thomas sat at the table in the break room, set his cane aside, and unpacked his grape jelly and peanut butter sandwich. He had only taken a couple of bites when a familiar set of footsteps echoed closer and closer in his direction, unceremoniously revealing an exhausted Hamilton who was certainly going off of muscle memory as he hadn't noticed Thomas at the table. The darker man observed as his co-worker walked right past him over to the kitchen counter, pulled out a mug from a top cupboard, and prepared the Keurig machine to make a pot of his favorite bitter, black liquid. He pressed the button and watched as the coffee poured down into the pot, giving it would take a while he decided to turn around and lean against the counter, he wiped a hand across his face, fatigued, and then crossed his arms over his chest. Finally, he looked up, his gazed shifting to the person at the table. He jumped slightly in surprise, never in a million years ever expecting to see Jefferson that early in the morning. 

"What are you doing here?" He frowned, offended. 

"Having breakfast?" Thomas questioned, innocently pointing at his sandwich like it was obvious.

Alex wasn't ready to deal with this at this time of the day, his brain already hurt. 

"No, no, no, no, no, you know what I mean. What are you doing here right now? You're never here at 7 in the morning, let alone 6:30. What is this?"

Hamilton was already speaking too quickly for Thomas's liking, his head struggling to catch up. He was about to answer with a sharp retort but thought otherwise he had only just started being nice to Hamilton, he couldn't fail just now. 

"I have some paperwork leftover from late last night - thought it would be good to come in and finish it early." 

That wasn't true, but Hamilton didn't know that so, it was as good an excuse as any. 

"Why? Do you mind?" He couldn't be too nice though now, could he?

Alexander was taken aback by his answer but didn't push it, choosing to focus on the ready pot of coffee instead. He poured himself a cup and turned to walk out the door. 

"Hamilton?" 

Jefferson called right before the brunette could leave - the other stopped in his tracks but didn't turn, waiting to hear whatever Thomas had to say. 

"Why do you come to work so early?" 

The question still lingered on Thomas' mind. 

"Because you come to work so late." Alex resumed his walk. 

What? What was that supposed to mean, Thomas was never late, determined he left his breakfast and cane right there at the table and went after Hamilton, once within reach he grabbed him by the elbow and made him turn around to face him. 

"I am never late." He exclaimed his words as bitter as Alexander's coffee. 

"I didn't mean it literally." The other groaned.

"Then what did you mean? Just give me a straight answer." 

"THIS, Jefferson... This is exactly why I come to work early - because I don't have the strength to bicker with you first thing in the morning. You show up roughly when everyone else does and every time we see each other, it ends in some sort of quarrel, so I come here to work in peace and quiet knowing that at some point during the day, I'll have to face you. Is my answer to your satisfaction?" 

Hamilton stared up at Jefferson, his eyes weary.

The words slowly processed themselves in the taller man's mind, making sure he understood the younger one completely. Thomas was stunned, James was right - Hamilton really was trying his best to avoid him, when had it gotten that bad? Alexander turned around about to walk away when Thomas finally spoke. 

"Then, let's not." 

Alex stalled. 

"Excuse me?"

"Let's not argue then... Hamilton, I'm tired of it." His shoulders sagged. "And judging by your words, so, are you, let's not argue..." The words were simple, but the emotion behind them was sincere. 

Thomas held out the proverbial olive branch. Would Hamilton take it? 

"Are you even capable of that?" A slight chuckle escaped Alex's lips, he couldn't believe his own ears.

"It's going to be hard, but... I'm willing to try - If you are, that is." 

Jefferson held out his hand. 

"Shake on it?"

Hamilton side-eyed Thomas, unsure if this was happening for real or was some kind of twisted joke. 

"How do I know you aren't pulling some sort of prank on me." 

"I'm not." Thomas gave Hamilton the most honest expression he could manage. 

After what felt like an eternity, Alex shook Jefferson's hand, accepting his offer, and by extension - the olive branch. 

Surprisingly, after Alexander had left Thomas by himself in the hallway, he didn't see him much that day, and even during a meeting they remained civilized, and held off on any form of remark. Which didn't pass unnoticed like he thought it would.

"Alexandre?" 

A French accent made itself known in his office. Alex looked up from his papers to see a certain Marquis looming over his desk.

"Oh, hi, Lafayette." He focused back on his work.

"Alex, was I just in a meeting where you and Thomas, talked and didn't fight?" 

The Frenchman only received an approving hum in response.

"Quesqui ç'est passé? Mon ami. Are you ill?" 

The Caribbean man was suddenly pushed, away from his work and a warm hand was applied to his forehead. 

"Wow, Gilbert, relaxe-toi, tout vas bien. Just because, I didn't fight with Jefferson doesn't mean I'm all of a sudden, sick." 

Alex was met with a disbelievingly arched brow. 

"I spoke with him this morning and we both came to the conclusion that we're tired of fighting, so we decided to stop." 

"Just like that?!"

"Yeah, I dunno; Do you need a contract for confirmation - or are my words not enough?" Alex was confused. 

"Non, non, non, non, non, ça n'est pas normale, Alex... What are you saying? Something has got to be wrong - this isn't normal." 

And just as he had walked in, Lafayette left Hamilton's office without a word, on a quest to understand what had just transpired. 

***

"So you're telling me that you and Hamilton just stopped fighting?" Madison asked, seated in Thomas's chair while the other man was pacing around the room. 

"Yeah, and you know what's the best part. It's not even that hard. I'm liking this actually." 

"Please, Thomas, we both know you're just blinded by the novelty of this agreement - it's too early for you to tell if you like it. It's barely been a day." He spoke tactfully, polishing his reading glasses. 

Jefferson stopped at Madison's words and pointed at him with his cane. 

"Actually, no." 

"What do you mean?" James frowned. 

"He and I agreed on it yesterday morning but I've been mulling the idea over for a while now, only really putting it to work on Wednesday, so Actually it's been three days now." 

James just sat in the chair, surprised. 

"Regardless, Thomas, it's still too early to tell. I bet you won't last a month without breaking into some sort of insignificant, petty argument."

"You're on." Jefferson challenged. 

Thomas genuinely liked being nice to Hamilton for the first time in his life he didn't have to think of witty retorts or mean-spirited arguments. Yeah, sure, some of them were off the dome, but that was when he'd actually get angry. If he wasn't well, then there was no reason to spite Hamilton - maybe they really could change their dynamic to something more akin to friendship. 

"Hello, Jefferson." 

The darker man was greeted by a more neutral and less defensive Hamilton - it almost looked like he was smiling at him. 

"Hey, Hamilton. Why did you come in early? I thought you didn't have to do that anymore, with us... you know?" 

Thomas had noticed Hamilton had, in fact, come into work early even regardless, of their deal, which for some reason bothered him greatly.

"Ah- yeah.... uh-" Alex sighed. "Force of habit." He made a vague gesture in dismissal.

"Oh-." Thomas hadn't thought about that. 

"Well, you should change your habit." He smiled sheepishly.

"You always look so tired, take that time in the morning and just, come later, even if it's just a half-hour?" 

Hamilton looked at him, a sort of a surprise in his eyes but it later turned into appreciation.

"Thanks, Jefferson." He smiled - openly this time.

"Just, call me Thomas, eh?" Jefferson smiled back.

"Alright, then - call me Alexander, I guess?" 

The two were now in an uncomfortable situation, introducing themselves like they were meeting for the first time. In a sense, they sort of were but they couldn't just toss out five years of disagreements out the window. They had to learn to live with their differences and learn to appreciate each other for more than that. Maybe they had things in common that they didn't know about - but that's how it is when you get to know someone for the first time. Even if they knew each other for years they were about to learn who the other really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Alexandre?" - Alexander
> 
> "Quesqui ç'est passé? Mon ami."- What's going on, my friend? 
> 
> "Wow, Gilbert, relaxe-toi, tout vas bien." - Relax, everything is fine.
> 
> "Non, non, non, non, non, ça n'est pas normale," - No, This isn't normal.
> 
> And of course, let me know what you thought!


	4. A Gentlemen's Night

By Saturday evening, Alex was already sick of the party he was about to go to - he didn't care for it. If he had any say in it, he wouldn't go, but since Washington was gonna show, he had to go even if just for an hour or two. And so Alex got ready - everyone called it an office party but, he would've called it a gala, it happened every year and they had to dress nicely, their regular work clothes weren't enough. He put on a black suit and called it a day - he didn't have to impress anyone - he isn't making it to midnight. 

Alexander showed up late for a change he really didn't want to be there he didn't care, he entered the building, making small talk with every other person he encountered, and made his way to the main lobby. Where he met up with John and Lafayette - the trio beginning to sip on some drinks that were readily available around the room. Around twenty minutes later, a slightly tipsy Frenchman noticed their boss on the other side of the room having a conversation with none other than a tall, dark, and surprisingly non-extravagantly dresser man. Hamilton looked over his friend's shoulder to try and spot the two distant figures. What the hell was Thomas doing here? He said he wasn't coming? 

Regardless of that fact, that just gave Alex more of a reason to drink - as much as Jefferson on his end was fine with being nice to Hamilton, the opposite wasn't always true. It wasn't that Alexander wanted to be mean again, it was just taking him a little longer to adjust to the idea, the whole change of situation had happened so suddenly he was still persuaded it's some sort of a joke. So once Jefferson found Hamilton already drunk about an hour later, he wasn't really impressed. 

"Hey, Alexander, what's up." Thomas sat down by the shorter man's side, leaning his cane against a chair. 

"Oh, Hey, Thomas." 

Alex wasn't slurring yet, but his words were beginning to get mumbled, letting the darker man know what was going on. 

"What are you doing here? You said you weren't coming?" 

"I- uh, didn't have anything better to do so, I thought I'd drop by... I had some stuff to talk over with Washington anyway." 

That wasn't true - there was always something better Thomas could do, but since they have been on good terms and he knew Hamilton would be there, he decided to come, so they could hang out together - this is not what he had in mind.

"Alex, how much did you drink?" 

Jefferson had only now focused on the cemetery of empty shot glasses on the table, picking one up in disgust. 

"Ayy, you called me Alex." The other grinned. "I like that." 

It was clear he wasn't going to get an answer out of his co-worker, and for some reason, the brunette's friends had ditched him, probably drunk themselves. He was about to comment something - when a shot glass filled with vodka was rapidly brought to his lips, spilling some of its contents on his dress shirt. 

"Hamilton! What are you doing?!" The sudden nature of the event almost angered Thomas but, - he reasoned with himself that drunk Alex probably doesn't equal smart Alex.

"Drink with me, Thomas - we'll get to know each other better." 

The younger man reasoned, and while Jefferson knew, no drunk person ever speaks reason, he also knew - as Rousseau had said himself - "A drunk mind, speaks a sober heart." This was a slippery slope - if Thomas got too drunk, this could turn sour but if he could keep himself level-headed, he could get Hamilton to confess things he never thought possible. And so with this poorly deducted reasoning - the taller man poured himself a drink. The burn of the alcohol slowly cauterizing his throat, he winced as he felt it enter his system. Alex was about to get another drink, but Thomas stopped him, taking the glass for himself. 

"Slow down, you're drunk enough - it's my turn." 

Jefferson downed the shot while the shorter man sulked at the lack of his drink. 

***

The pair sat there for another hour - Thomas, catching up in drunkenness, stealing Alex's drinks, sobering him up in the process. It was already way past eleven both of them were reasonably intoxicated and had talked about everything and anything that they were comfortable with at the time when Jefferson decided he had had enough of their little chitchat... and the party, that is. 

"Come on Alex, I'm taking you to my place, I have wine that is way better than any of the crap you drank tonight." He stood up, grabbing his cane.

"Is it a date?" 

The younger man giggled, his cheeks red from alcohol - he hadn't told Thomas about his infatuation yet. 

"Call it - a Gentlemen's night." The other proposed. 

Accepting the offer, Alex got up from his chair and followed Thomas to the elevators, heading for the underground garage. 

"Why are we going to the garage?"

"To get my car, I'm driving." The darker man explained.

Alex suddenly stopped the elevator as they were passing the ground floor, pushing the 'open doors' button and forcing Thomas out of the elevator with his whole body. 

"Whoa, what are you doing Alexander, - my car-"

"Absolutely not!" Alex shouted, his emotions seeping in for the first time since their conversation began.

Jefferson was stunned.

"Wha?"

"You - are not driving!" The shorter man slurred.

"You're about as drunk as I am - you are not getting behind the wheel in this state. I won't let you." He finished, angry. 

Thomas laughed. 'Cute.' He spoke under his breath, so the other wouldn't hear. 

"Hamilton, you care if I get into a car accident?" 

"Of course, not - I care whether I get into a car accident besides - wouldn't want to end a friendship before it starts."

Alex rushed the last few words, but Thomas heard them anyway, and his heart warmed at the thought of a - normal - friendship with Hamilton. He followed him out into the cold November air, the tip of his cane clicking with his every step. 

"Where are we going?" 

"The subway." Alex walked, not even caring to take a look at Jefferson, rubbing his hands to fend away the cold.

"The closest station is like ten minutes away, and you're already freezing." He argued. 

"Well, if you'd stop complaining and start walking, we'd get there faster." 

Thomas threw his hands up in defeat - there was no arguing with drunk Alex. He easily - caught up to the Caribbean man thanks to his height, and the pair walked in the direction of the nearest subway station. By the time they entered the subway car, Hamilton was shaking from the cold not, having thought to bring a thicker jacket than the suit jacket he was already wearing. Given it was close to midnight, the car was almost empty aside for two people on the other end. Alexander sat down on a chair, and Thomas stood holding onto the metal bars. 

"We'll be sober by the time we get there." He complained. 

"We'll get drunk at your place anyway." The younger man retorted. 

Thomas spun around a pole in circles for a moment - Alex thought he was about to receive a free strip show. 

"That you are right about, Hammy."

"Please don't call me that." Alex cringed.

"I will serve you the most exquisite of wines." Jefferson smirked. 

"You'll get drunk so fast you won't even notice it." His words dripped with satisfaction.

"Is that so?" The other arched a suggestive brow. 

"Why d'you get drunk anyway?" Thomas asked, hanging off the rails like they were monkey bars. 

"Well, I had a couple of drinks because I didn't want to be there, but I got drunk because you showed up." Alexander slurred. 

"What?" 

"Yeah, I'm still persuaded, this whole - 'being nice' thing is just a - huge prank you and Madison are pulling on me." 

"Alex, would I be inviting you to get shit-faced at my place if this was a prank? I don't have the patience for that kind of thing, and believe me, Madison is not in on it - in fact, he made a bet with me that you and I wouldn't last a month of being nice to each other." 

Thomas sat next to his co-worker, his cane between his legs. 

"Is that a challenge?" The younger man asked. 

"I believe so. You wanna prove him, wrong?" Jefferson suggested. 

***

The duo shared mischievous smirks at the thought - their journey continued with more mindless chitchat, during which they exchanged phone numbers as they soon got to Jefferson's home. 

"You own a HOUSE in New York?" 

"Eh, this isn't much." He dismissed. "I have a place in Virginia that's way better - it's called Monticello."

"You named your house?" Alex was completely confused in his drunken state. 

"Not the house, the place where it's at... uh- whatever, maybe one day you'll get it."

"Will we go there?" He asked as Thomas laughed, unlocking the front door. 

The sound of Thomas's laugh was like music to Alexander's ears. 

"Not tonight, but maybe someday if you behave."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He frowned. 

"Alex, all I've seen you be is a bumbling child, and that's when you're not drunk."

"Fuck you." Alex slurred dropping, onto Jefferson's couch making him laugh again, causing a smile to stretch across Hamilton's face. 

The taller man didn't even bother with sitting and, in turn, went straight for the wine rack that hung on the wall, taking out a fresh bottle of Pinot Noir. 

"Straight from France!" He exclaimed.

Alex sat up a bit as Thomas set down two wine glasses on the coffee table and poured their drinks. He snatched one of the glasses and took a sip. 

"I hope you have more than one bottle because it'll be gone in no time." The younger man taunted.

"Hah, who do you think I am?" The darker man smirked knowingly, turning on some jazz.

As they drank and the clock had passed two in the morning, the dim lighting in the living room along, with the smooth jazz in the air, created a much more relaxed atmosphere. And with said atmosphere came a very, sincere conversation, too bad neither of them would probably remember it in the morning. 

"So, you like men?" Thomas questioned, resting his head in the other man's lap. 

"Technically, I'm bi." Alex, corrected. "I had a thing with Eliza Schuyler for a while, but it didn't work out."

"Why not?" The older one frowned, looking up to see the other's face better.

"Maybe one day I'll tell you." The Caribbean man sipped more of his drink. 

"You secretive bastard." The playful tone in Jefferson's voice let him know there was no malice in his words. 

"And, you? I've never seen you be affectionate with anyone." Alexander inquired. 

"I mean... I like both men and women but veer towards men more, you know?" Thomas sat up next to his co-worker, their bodies so close their shoulders were touching. 

Alex nodded in agreement. 

"You've never seen me with anyone because it's been a while since my last relationship."

"What? Come on, you're not serious?" He questioned. 

"We met like five years ago - you're trying to tell me you've been celibate since then?" Hamilton couldn't believe it. 

"Longer even..." Thomas said, nonchalant and tired. 

"No way! How old are you?" 

"Thirty-seven." Came a straight answer. 

"Get out of here."

"Nah, for real."

"How, do you know Lafayette then?!" The younger man asked - astonished.

"Traveled to France a lot when I was younger - our families have known each other for a long time, I went to college in Paris and he went to Columbia University in New York." He explained. 

"That's where I met him." Alexander beamed. 

"We shared a dorm together, he was in his third year, and I met John there too he was in the same year as me."

"Alex, how old are you exactly?" Thomas had a sneaking suspicion he had a different number in mind than what the other was about to say. 

"I'm thirty." Hamilton looked up from under his lashes. 

"I thought you were older - you really need to take a break - I'm sure you have some extra vacation days you could take." The older one suggested. 

"I never took any sort of leave since I started with Washington - I have like a months' worth of vacation, I think - I'm not sure, it's been a while since I last checked." Alex filled his glass with more wine.

"Even more of a reason to take some time off." Jefferson pushed, his eyes following the younger man's movements closely. 

"Nah." Hamilton dismissed. "I don't like taking time off." He hiccuped.

Thomas moved in closer to Alexanders' face, sharing body heat - the other could almost feel his breath on the other one's cheek. 

"Alex." 

"Thomas." He let out a shallow breath. 

"You have been working your ass off for years - you need to relax." 

The darker-skinned man laid his palm on Alex's thigh, and with this action alone, their dynamic shifted. The gaze the shared lasting for far longer than ever before. Thomas broke it first, setting his glass aside and moving both of his hands to Hamilton's shoulders, rubbing the tense muscles. 

Alexander closed his eyes at the touch - letting himself drift off into fantasy. 

"Oh, Alex..." 

Jefferson sighed, dropping his hands onto the other man's chest. 

The brunette opened his eyes half-lidded. 

"I've always liked you." Thomas deadpanned.

"What?" 

The revelation came out of no-where but, if one of them was gonna go for it, it had to be Thomas. 

"Yeah..." He breathed, the smell of wine permeating the air. 

"Ever since the first day I met you... there was something about you." He drawled.

Their faces were so close to each other now, their noses almost touching, breathing in each other's breath. Hamilton leaned in and closed the gap sealing their lips together for just two seconds - their first kiss, chaste. 

"I like you too, Thomas." Alex confessed.

"What?" 

Thomas pulled back, surprised - after all these years of hatred - he didn't expect his rival to reciprocate his feelings. 

"But you hate me?" 

"Hated - Thomas, not anymore, there are always two sides to a coin. I might dislike the way you dress or the shit you said but, I noticed the good side of you too."

"My sense of style is impeccable, thank you very much." 

"Shut up, Thomas." 

Alexander leaned in again, closing the gap once more, this time for longer, relishing in the silence the kiss had brought in exchange for a moment of drunken ecstasy. Their kiss got longer, and deeper, more passionate, their breathing getting heavy and erratic, their hearts pounding at their chests. Jefferson pushed Hamilton into the couch and leaned into him as if he was his only source of oxygen like he needed him to survive. The third bottle of Pinot Noir, long forgotten on the coffee table, a sultry double bass in the background adding urgency to their touch, pulling at each other's clothes in need of the other's warmth. 

"Give me fever, Alex!" The darker man growled. 

The words setting the younger man ablaze - he tugged at the other's bottom lip, almost drawing blood. The more they kissed, the hazier their minds got, forgetting what day it was, forgetting what time it was, forgetting where they were and who they were. Their arms wrapped around each other, exploring with a desperate need for more - parting for only one word. 

"Bedroom?" 

There was no answer, only more desperate kissing and mingling, the two of them hardly making it to their feet in the direction of Thomas' bedroom.

They fell on the bed, wrestling with their clothes - the articles harder to remove in their hastened, intoxicated states. Alex pulled at Thomas' vodka stained dress-shirt, demanding more while, the other fought with the younger man's top button's, finally managing to remove this cumbersome attire. Within seconds, he was tugging down the offensive dress pants leaving Hamilton in only boxers. They kissed more passionately, fighting for dominance - Jefferson was about to make a move but was stopped with a hand grabbing his wrist and a finger in front of his face dancing side to side in disapproval. 

"Strip." 

Was the only word needed - before Alexander helped him remove his own clothes, leaving the two of them in bed in just underwear. Finally, with more surface area for their skin to make contact, they felt each other's burning desire, roaming around each other's bodies. Jefferson leaned in, sucking on Hamilton's neck, making - breathless moans fall from his lips. 

"Oh, Thomas!" 

Alex's senses were leaving him - overdosing on euphoria, he clawed at the taller man's back, no doubt leaving long marks in his wake. With every moan, becoming harder to resist, just wanting to get it done but no, not yet. Their embrace like a cage for their need for each other, they couldn't let go, their bodies meeting for the very first time, the endorphins and alcohol in their system getting them hooked on each other like a drug. Hands, roaming over long stretches of skin - exploring undiscovered curves, trying to map out the hills and valleys, and keep that map locked away forever. 

Hamilton knew the shape of Jefferson's shoulders, clearly visible even with a shirt on, the width they stretched across, but never saw how they had been carved by almighty gods. The tight muscles on his stomach, lengthening and shortening, with his bodies' every move, turning from soft and inconspicuous to rock hard and clean-cut, like a greek god. The perfect human proportions at work right in front of his very eyes. God, was Thomas fucking gorgeous.  
And it seems opposites attract as in Thomas's head he couldn't get over the softness of the younger man's skin, the olive-toned surface, seemingly warmer in the darkness. Jefferson let his fingers wander across the tenderness that was the body underneath him, cherishing it with every passing second - after all this time, it was finally his to touch. The small of Alexander's back with ample love handles, perfect for Thomas to grab onto, especially when Alex suddenly pushed him down into the mattress straddling him. 

Slowly but surely, the brunette reached for the waistband of Thomas' boxers briefs and inched his way down, making Thomas wince with lust as the ghost of a touch lingered down his thighs. Once at the foot of the bed, Alexander removed his own underwear and crawled back on top of the chiseled, chocolate body that lay in front of him in all its aroused glory. He leaned down to Thomas's neck, leaving a trail of doting kisses as he made his way down his chest and over his stomach - his lips grazing the hair of the other's happy trail as he nibbled the skin above Jefferson's groin. 

Deciding they had had enough foreplay, Alex straddled Thomas once more and inched his way down the man's throbbing shaft. Both of them so drunk they hadn't realized - for Thomas, that, this shouldn't be possible. Whatever orifice he had just penetrated was not natural to the male anatomy but, he didn't care. And for Alex, that he had just revealed Thomas his secret, something he had kept hidden away his whole life, was now treachery, to his own self. Regardless of these two facts, the pair went on, setting a steady rhythm, pacing themselves, their hips in sync, becoming one. Alexander - squeezing tight around Thomas, giving them great pleasure, as evident by more passionate moans escaping both of their mouths. With their previous intoxication and ardent make out session on the couch, it didn't take long for either of them to get to the edge - Thomas deep inside Alex, and Alex senseless, on top of him, his own member erect, touching his stomach. The pace, getting faster and faster, their movements turning sloppy, on the verge of the precipice. Finally! Thomas climaxed, spilling his seed inside Alex, the younger man reaching orgasm not long after. He slipped off of the darker man's lap and laid down, next to him, spent. 

The pair cuddled in bed, totally forgoing any sort of clean up, too tired to do anything but fall asleep in each other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full Disclosure - I've never written a scene like this before (especially between two guys) so I hope it wasn't too bad. And of course, let me know what you thought.


	5. What comes next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French translation in the end chapter notes.

The next morning Alex woke up groggy, with a terrible headache, his eyes hurt at the mere thought of light so he kept his eyes shut as he snuggled deeper into the soft cotton bedding - he didn't remember his bedsheets ever being this delicate. He cast the thought aside, thankful for the warmth when he heard another man groan beside him. His eyes shot open as he sat up surprised.

"Thomas?!" He panicked. 

"Keep it down Alex, my head is pounding." The other answered without care.

"What the fuck is this? Where am I?" The younger man was all the more confused as he felt sore between his legs.

Thomas just groaned again at the loud noise and wiped a hand across his face in hopes to wake himself up, he sat up too, facing the panicked man. 

"In my bed, why?" 

"Why?! Why?! Thomas, why?!" He freaked more.

"Alex, relax. Do you remember anything from last night?" 

That question made him stop and ponder; What did happen last night?

"I- I- I... remember the party, you drank with me for some reason... we took a train to your place, and then we drank more."

"Anything after that point?" The darker man quizzed.

"I vaguely remember... we made out?!" He shrieked.

He was met with an approving hum from Jefferson as the other got out of bed and walked to a private bathroom. 

"Thomas, you're naked!" He exclaimed and looked down.

"I'm naked! We had sex. Oh, this is just getting better and better isn't it?" The realization dawned on him which made him realize, _Thomas didn't care,_ he wrapped the covers tightly around himself and walked to the bathroom as Thomas splashed some water on his face and grabbed his toothbrush. 

"Thomas, how are you okay with this? **_I_** \- Alexander Hamilton, your enemy, just woke up in **_your_** bed after we had drunken sex."

Thomas sighed, resigned.

"I woke up an hour ago, had some time to remember what happened, think about it, and come to the conclusion, that it's not that bad." He answered simply.

"It's not that bad?! Thomas, we just became friends and now we had sex."

The quick acknowledgment from Alexander that they had indeed become friends lit a small fire inside Thomas' chest. He cleaned the toothpaste out of his mouth and faced, the other man, less than a foot between them. 

"Alex." 

He held the younger man by the shoulders.

"Do you remember our conversation on the couch last night?"

"It's foggy right now." The brunette squeezed his eyes and shook his head.

"I confessed to you that I like you." 

Alexander's eyes opened wide. 

"You kissed me and said you like me too. Since both, you and I have feelings for each other Alex, it's okay, it happened, it is not the end of the world. I am asking you, let's not hide our feelings from each other... please. I don't want to go back to hating one another knowing, we would both suffer." 

The raw nature of Jefferson's words completely threw Alex off, his demeanor softened and he sighed heavily. He cupped Thomas's cheek, looking at him, his eyes full of mixed emotions that were swirling around in his head. 

"Please - promise me that you're not lying because I swear to you, Thomas. If you break my heart-" 

"I won't, I promise on whatever you deem holy, that I will not deliberately, do anything that would break you, emotionally or otherwise." 

The pair stared into each other's eyes - longingly. 

"Come here." Alex smiled as he pulled Thomas in for a chaste kiss. 

"You do realize we can't act like this at work, right?" Thomas interjected. 

"We won't, this is just for you and me, and work will be as usual." 

"As usual." Thomas pecked Alex on the lips once more, finalizing their deal. 

Once the taller man turned around to face the sink, Alex gasped, covering his mouth in shock. 

"Did I do that?" He asked as he let his hand run down the long angry red marks along Jefferson's back. 

"You must be really good in bed if I did _that_ to you."

"Speak for yourself, Ladybug." 

Jefferson vaguely gestured towards the mirror, for Alex to see - his neck was covered in hickeys, he let the covers fall to his waist, revealing more love bites covering his body, he really did look like a ladybug. 

"I can't go to work like this!" Alex freaked.

Thomas laughed and came up behind him wrapping his hands around his waist peppering more tender kisses on his shoulder. 

"It's November, wear a scarf and no-one will notice."

"Yes, no one will notice me with a scarf wrapped all the way around my neck indoors..." 

"You got a better idea?" 

***

Alex did not have a better idea but once he looked through his closet in search of a scarf, he found a long-discarded turtleneck and chose to wear it instead along with letting his hair down to hide the hickeys that couldn't be concealed, like the ones behind his ears. 

After they had spent all of Sunday together Alexander became a lot more comfortable with being close to Thomas, he was slowly developing a certain level of trust in the man although they did agree not to speak of that night, at least for some time. They had to figure out whatever this was - they definitely weren't together but they would learn this dance pretty quickly. For now, they had decided not to change anything at work and stay cordial to each other, while they could bond and study each other afterward in the comfort of their private space. 

***

The whole week at work was filled with a text conversation that the pair couldn't possibly have aloud, with several pet names coming from Thomas, like Darling and Ladybug, the latter usually being used when describing more raunchy activities...

Alex blushed once more at his phone, putting it away, trying to listen to what Washington was saying during their meeting. His phone buzzed again, he pulled it out thinking it was another text from Thomas but he was wrong. 

**_Lafayette:_** __You are telling me everything later, don't think I haven't noticed you smiling at your phone all week.__

The Caribbean man looked across the room at this friend, who was evidently waiting for it, his face stern. Once the meeting had ended, Alex ran to hide in his office to no avail, Lafayette was so protective, his motherly instincts were suffocating sometimes. 

"A quis es que tu écris tous les temps comme ca, hein?" The Marquis stormed into his office. 

"Would you quiet down, everyone will hear you!" Alex shushed him.

"Hear me? You haven't exactly been, let's say... _discreet._ You know?"

"What do you mean?" Alex stopped for a moment. 

"You've been smiling and giggling at your phone for a week, Alexandre. Everyone in the office has noticed, and don't tell me you wore that neck-turtle for four days because you were cold." 

"It's - _turtleneck."_ The younger man corrected. 

"Peu n'importe..." The Frenchman was reverting more and more to his native language in his anger. 

"Hey, calm down." Alex helped his friend to a chair opposite his mahogany desk. 

"Ok, fine, yes, I'm texting someone, so what? I can't have other friends?" 

"That's not what I mean." Lafayette spoke, exhausted. 

"This clearly is more than a friend, Alex. I don't want you to get hurt after what happened avec Eliza."

"It won't - trust me, this is different." He reassured.

"Why? Do they know about you?" His friend was possibly the only person that knew Alex's secret - living in a dorm together leads to some intimate conversations. 

"No, this person does not know about me, Gilbert but trust me, it is different." 

"Do I know this person?" The Frenchman looked at his friend through slits. 

"I can neither confirm nor deny this information."

"I do know them - If I didn't you would've just said no."

Alex thought he was being smart but his friends knew him too well.

"Doesn't' matter, I'm not telling you who it is, I have the right to my own private life." The brunette turned, offended. 

"Alexandre... I'm just worried about you." 

"I know, Gil." He sighed.

"You do realize you'll have to tell them if you want this relationship to go anywhere, right?" 

"I don't have to, we're not together."

"Alex, s'il te plait." Lafayette grabbed his hand. 

"I want you to be happy. If you say, this is different; Why not make it last?" 

***

Lafayette was right, Alex knew Lafayette was right, that didn't stop the fact that he technically still had no obligations to tell Thomas anything. Yes, they had sex, but apparently, no beans were spilled; How did drunk Alex manage to keep his mouth shut was still beyond Alexander. It had been another long day the clock ticking by mercilessly, by the time Alex had looked at the time it was just three minutes past midnight. Worn, he gathered up his stuff and made for the exit - on his way out he spotted a small slit of light shining under Jefferson's door. This wasn't by any means unusual, both men had the habit of working late but it had been the first time it had happened since the pair had become friends. Without knocking Hamiton grabbed the gold doorknob and turned it as slowly as he possibly could as to not make a sound - he pushed the door ajar peeking inside to see, the older man scratching at his head, tired, his big poofy hair moving with it. The only light in the room was his desk lamp, making his face look haggard while illuminating his laptop, and strewn about papers.

"Thomas?" His voice was quiet as to not startle the man. 

Seemingly out of it, Jefferson raised his head, confused, and looked in the direction of the doorway spotting a barely visible in the dim light, scruffy face. Right as he spotted it his features light up brighter than his desk lamp.

"Hey..." His voice soft, inclined by the late hour.

The younger man smiled at what he saw.

"Come on, pack your bag and let's go, it's already past midnight." 

"Is it?" Thomas looked to his watch. 

"I've been so wrapped up in work I completely spaced out."

The taller man tidied up his desk, grabbed his cane and the duo left the office building, Alexander hitching a ride with Thomas. 

By the time they had reached Alex's apartment, the former dozed off, his left hand laying on the center console, Thomas grabbed it and squeezed lightly. 

"Hey, we're here." He spoke softly not truly wanting to wake the other man. 

Alexander sat up in his seat wiping at his eyes to clear away the sleep. 

"You alright?" The older one asked. 

"Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I be?" 

"I heard Lafayette was nagging you; What about?"

The Caribbean man let a tired breath come out his nose.

"Nah, he's just being his mother henning self, it's fine." 

"Oh, really?" Jefferson laughed.

"Yeah, he's just worried about you and me, and whether this relationship holds any weight."

"He hasn't said anything to me." 

"I haven't told him it's you."

At the sound of those words, Thomas's smile fell from his face as he looked away disappointed. 

"What's wrong?" The younger man asked. 

"Alex, do you want this relationship or not?" The words were cold.

Hamilton grabbed his lover by the cheek forcing him to look into his eyes. 

"Of course I want this, Thomas." He spoke with as much conviction as he could muster. 

"I just want to enjoy it in peace for as long as possible. Once word gets out that you and I are together, I won't hear the end of it" 

"But why though? You want this, I want this, who's to tell you how you should live your life, Alexander? I want to show my love for you, I want to make all of these idiots at work jealous because they'll never have what I have." The car roof light glinted in Thomas' eyes.

"And what's that?" 

**_"You."_** He breathed, sincere. 

Alex's heart melted at the words, he never would have suspected Thomas of such delicate thoughts. The darker man looked in his eyes searching for an answer. 

"I can't tell you yet Thomas, believe me, I really want to but not yet."

"Does this have to do with your ex?" He asked thinking he had cracked it. 

"Partly but she's not the issue - It's me." 

The younger man cast his eyes downwards, the top light making his eyes look dark and empty, Jefferson looked with pity, trying to understand. 

"Okay." He finally said, resigned. 

Alex looked up, surprised. 

"If you need time then I won't push, all I'm asking is for you to tell me nothing but the truth once you're ready." 

"Even if it might change your perception of me?" 

Those words took Thomas aback, what was Hamilton hiding that could possibly be so bad? 

"Unless you're a wanted serial killer, I think we'll be fine." He joked, rubbing Alex's cheek with his thumb, making the other man laugh as well.

They sat in the car a little bit longer savoring their peace. It had been two whole weeks since they hadn't fought and they weren't even trying, their relationship coming to them so naturally. 

"And don't even dare to try and squeeze any information out of Lafayette, Gilbert would never betray me."

"Gilbert?" Thomas looked amused but surprised at the same time. 

"Yeah, that's his name." It was Alex's turn to be confused. 

"I know." Thomas chuckled. 

"I just- damn, you guys really must be close, he never lets me call him that and I've known him since he was a kid."

The two of them laughed in the comfort of the car, parked in the empty New York City street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A quis es que tu écris tous les temps comme ca, hein?" - "Who are you texting like that all the time, huh?" 
> 
> "Peu n'importe..." - "Whatever..."
> 
> "...avec Eliza." - "...with Eliza."
> 
> "Alex, s'il te plait." - "Alex, please."
> 
> And of course, leave a comment down below.


	6. Hamilton?! Really?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French translation in the end chapter notes.

Even though Thomas had told Alexander that he would wait, he wasn't even sure if he could stand the wait. How long would Alex need to trust Thomas with his secret - what even was it? What could Hamilton possibly be hiding that would change the way he perceived him? Jefferson just chucked it up to Alex overdramatizing things as always. It had been another two weeks since their talk in the car, and Thomas was slowly trying to make a move on the younger man while the two were at work. Their late-night post-work snuggles in either his or Alex's bed weren't enough - Thomas longed for the Caribbean man's touch during the day. 

"Thomas, Thomas? - Earth to Tommy?" Madison tried to get the other out of his trance.

"I told you not to call me that." 

"Tough love, at least it stopped you daydreaming." James retorted.

"I was not daydreaming! Thank you very much." A frown flashed across the Virginian's face.

"Keep telling yourself that, and that blush on your cheeks is from the office heating, yes?" The man resumed cleaning his glasses. 

"Shut up, James." Jefferson stood up to pace the room. 

"So-" Madison stuck his glasses back onto his nose. 

"Who's got you so worked up anyway?" 

It was at that moment that Thomas understood what Alex had meant about enjoying their relationship in peace - he usually did a great job of not letting his thoughts show on his face, as Alex does but James had noticed now and wouldn't let it go. Even if Madison already knew _Jefferson_ and _Hamilton_ were on good terms. He didn't know that _Thomas_ and _Alexander_ are together, and Thomas wouldn't hear the end of it if he told his friend about it now. 

"It's none of your business, James." 

"Ooo, It's serious then." Madison's brow shot up. 

"And why do you care, huh?"

Thomas was getting more and more annoyed with his friend's attitude. 

"Thomas, let's not kid ourselves, please. Your last serious relationship was seven years ago, not to say you're out of practice but I don't want you to go into this with certain expectations and then have them be crushed while you crash at my place for two months like last time." 

"This isn't like last time, James. For god's sake, I'm not a teenager." 

The Virginian's patience was wearing thin as he hit the ground with his cane to emphasize his point. 

"Maybe, Thomas. But you're human. I just don't want you to get hurt." 

***

James' words kept swirling around Thomas's head _'I don't want you to get hurt', 'I don't want you to get hurt'._ Why would he get hurt? And what's with everyone's apprehension about his and Alex's relationship? No one even knew they were together. Sure it might have been a while since he was seriously involved with someone but, that doesn't' matter. Love doesn't have a date - it isn't something you can be out of practice with. Thomas had enough experience from his past relationships as it was, and - even if he might be out of touch, there's nothing like a good old-fashioned honest conversation.

"Whatcha thinkin'?" 

Alex pulled the older man out of his thoughts, the pair lying on Thomas's couch together watching a movie. 

"Hmm? Oh, nothing, just something James told me earlier." He dismissed. 

"Well, it must really be bothering you; you're not paying attention at all." 

"What? No, I'm watching." 

"Oh, really? Then what happened in the last scene?" Alexander looked at him with a raised brow. 

Thomas opened his mouth but had nothing to say - instead, letting out a string of abstract guttural sounds. He gave up. 

"Alright, fine, yes, it's been bothering me all day, doesn't matter, I'll forget about it by tomorrow." 

"Thomas..." Hamilton pushed.

The darker-skinned man looked his lover in the eye, hoping to sway him with only facial expressions. 

"You should talk about it if it bothers you that much." 

Thomas let his head fall back on the arms rest, almost knocking his cane in the process - his tactic hadn't worked. 

"It really is nothing. Madison noticed that I might be seriously involved with someone, so he told me to be careful because he doesn't want to see me hurt." His words were accented by a heavy eye roll.

"First, Lafayette with you and now James. What is with these people?" 

"Sounds like your last relationship didn't end well if he's worried."

"Nonsense, it's been seven years, there's nothing to worry about, I'll be fine." 

Alex pushed himself off of the older man's chest in disbelief. 

"That long?" 

"Yeah, I mean, a few one-night stands here and there but nothing serious since. Until now, that is." 

Alexander leaned in, the two sharing a lingering kiss and cuddling on the sofa.

"It will be a month in a couple of days. Maybe we could... let the cat out of the bag..?" The brunette suggested.

"You ready?" Thomas asked, somewhat surprised at the proposal.

"Not necessarily go full-on public, but maybe tell a few trusted souls? I don't know how long I can keep this away from Lafayette. Who am I kidding? He probably already figured it out."

Alexander groaned, making the older man laugh. 

"Maybe you're right. I don't know if I can hide this from James either." 

***

The next day at the office, the duo had decided they wouldn't restrain themselves in the company of their close friends. Essentially revealing their relationship without actually saying anything and letting the others figure it out for themselves. 

Hamilton had stopped coming to work early in the morning but he would still make sure he was at least five minutes earlier than everyone, for peace of mind - because of that he hadn't seen Jefferson yet and thought it would be a perfect time to bring the other man some freshly brewed coffee. He pushed the doors open to reveal Thomas standing next to his desk, leaning on his cane, talking with Madison as the pair of friends do every morning. Alex set the mug of black liquid down on the other's desk and was about to walk out when Thomas grabbed him by the hand. 

"Thank you, Darling." 

The words left his mouth effortlessly as if he'd been doing it for decades - he then leaned in and gave the shorter man a sweet peck on the lips in gratitude. 

In the corner of his eye, Thomas could see James's jaw, dropping at the sight as the pair let go of each other and Alex finally left.

"Careful, James. You'll catch flies." 

The air in the room went still - Madison was speechless. 

"What was it you were saying?" The Virginian sat down to enjoy the warmth of his coffee.

All Madison could do was stare at his friend, shocked. 

"Hamilton?! Really?!" 

"What? I told you we decided not to fight anymore." 

"Thomas, you were supposed to get along with him, not go to bed with him!" Madison couldn't believe what he had just witnessed, his glasses almost falling off of his nose. 

"Relax, none of that has happened." 

While in reality, it had, they had agreed not to speak about it, essentially acting like it hadn't. 

"You wanted to know who it was, and now you know, you can stop worrying." Jefferson sipped his coffee. 

"This makes it worse! You guys are in the honeymoon phase. Can't you see? You'll wind up hating each other worse than you did before in a matter of months." 

As soon as the words left Madison's mouth, Thomas felt his blood boil, rage creeping in. How could his friend not support him when Alex clearly made him happy; Isn't that what he wanted?

"James, leave." He tried to stay calm, closing his eyes for just a moment. 

"What?" 

"Get out!" 

"Thomas, are you serious?"

"James Madison, get the fuck out of my office right now!" 

The Virginian slammed his fist on his desk, making various trinkets shake, almost falling to the ground. Without a word, his friend stood up and left, leaving him to simmer with his own thoughts. 

Thomas was seething. How could James say something like this - he wants him not to get hurt but hurts him with words alone. He probably just needs time. The news was so abrupt. Madison was no doubt just not thinking about what he was saying yet, still - even hours after their dispute, Thomas couldn't stop thinking about it. His thoughts, restless, he had finally finished the documents he had been working on that now had to be looked over by Alexander. Jefferson put all the files together and closed them up in a binder, his feet already carrying him in the direction of Hamilton's office.  
Thomas stormed in without a word dropping the files on the younger man's desk - and automatically turned to leave but before he could do it, Alex got to his feet and ran over, closing the door right in the taller man's face. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" 

Alexander had noticed his lover's sour demeanor as soon as he had walked through that door.

"It's nothing, Alex." The older man tried to avoid his gaze. 

"Thomas, please." 

"It's really-, It's fine, I simply had an argument with James." 

He tried to walk past him but, Hamilton stopped him once more with a palm to his chest. 

"Was it because of me?" 

**_"No."_** His tone of voice made the question sound outlandish.

Alex pushed back Thomas's hair and caressed his face in a move to calm him down.

"Relax." 

Thomas closed his eyes, cherishing the feeling of the other man's hands on his face, and let out a long-needed sigh. Still caressing his cheek, Alex pulled him in closer and kissed him delicately, further trying to help him alleviate the stress of the situation. Suddenly, in the quiet of the room, the sound of a clearing throat was distinctly audible. The couple slowly looked to the side, their foreheads still touching, to see - Lafayette, sitting there next to Hamilton's desk his brows practically touching his hairline.

"Right..."

Alex chuckled nervously, pulling away embarrassed, having forgotten his friend was in the room. 

"I was about to go out with Gilbert, you see." 

The younger man stepped away, standing behind his desk. Thomas merely let his shoulder sag disappointed - he had hoped something could've happened between them right then and there. 

"I'll review your documents tomorrow - right now, we have to go." 

The Caribbean man grabbed his coat, gave the taller man a peck on the cheek, and left the room, leaving his two friends alone inside. 

"So... you and Alex?" 

Lafayette stood up to face his long time friend. 

"Do you have a problem with it?" The older man challenged. 

"Non." 

The word visibly took the Virginian aback. 

"I wasn't cent pour cent certain, but I had my suspicions." The Frenchman crossed his arms.

"Well, you sure took that a heck of a lot better than James did." He said, surprised. 

"Ca vas, I know Alexandre, and I know you, and I wish you all the best, it's not my place to stand between the both of you."

Thomas liked what he heard - he knew his friend wouldn't turn on him, he put his hand out for the other to shake it. 

"But if you break his heart... Ce sera moi avec qui tu auras affaire." 

Lafayette whispered the last part in his ear as he shook the hand that was presented to him. 

Just then, Alex's head popped in from the side of the door frame. 

"You coming, Gil?"

"Oui." He said simply, a smile plastered on his face as he followed Hamilton out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Non." - No
> 
> "...cent pour cent certain" - a hundred percent sure
> 
> "Ca vas" - It's ok
> 
> "...Ce sera moi avec qui tu auras affaire." - It will be me who you'll have to deal with.
> 
> "Oui." - Yes
> 
> And of course, let me know what you though.


	7. You're a mysterious man...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post every Thursday and I'll try and stick as much to that as I can but college is kicking my ass and I don't have time to write. Don't worry though. This fic will see its end, it'll just take a bit of time to get there... In the meantime enjoy this new chapter, I know it isn't much but I hope y'all dig it.

From that moment on Alexander, and Thomas had become a lot more easygoing around the office. Exchanging loving gazes across the meeting room table, sharing chaste kisses in the break room, or even managing to sneak in some cuddles on the sofa in Thomas's office. Obviously, he and James didn't agree on some of the decisions he had made. So, the pair of friends had simply decided they would not discuss these topics with one another, still retaining their friendship. 

The couple began to hang out at each other's places a lot more, mainly Alex at Thomas's since his apartment was small and his neighbors complained about everything. It was nice to run away to the castle that was the other man's house. From the lavish sofa in front of the tv. To the endearing and cozy little back garden where there was a big wooden swing for the summer and a small vegetable garden that would grow bountiful in the season. Alexander had no idea Thomas liked to garden and, this - was just one of the myriad of small details they didn't know about each other. It was just November when they had started, and low and behold, December was almost over. With them going to work only for one more day before Christmas break. 

During his many visits to Thomas's, Alex had noticed the other still sometimes walked with a cane at home and when doing longer distances like going to the store for groceries. That fact intrigued him greatly. Why the hell was Thomas walking around with a cane if it wasn't for show?

The thought crossed his mind just as the older man was putting his walking stick away, against the wall before jumping into bed. 

"What's with the cane." He asked, lifting up the covers for Jefferson to slip under. 

"Ah, that old thing?" The Virginian laughed softly. 

"Maybe someday I'll tell ya."

"But why walk around with it if you don't need it?" The younger man propped himself up on his elbow. 

"I do need it." The other responded matter-of-factly. 

Hamilton looked at him, his expression full of doubt.

"I really do." The taller man chuckled at the other's face. 

"You have your secrets, I have mine, we're even now." 

"Not fair..." The brunette grumbled. 

"This is absolutely fair, Alex. As soon as you tell me whatever this mystery of yours is that makes Lafayette so protective of you, then I'll tell you why I walk around with a cane." 

"There's no way whatever reason you may have is as much a burden as mine is." He crossed his arms tightly. 

"Then why don't you just tell me?" Thomas pleaded.

"Goodnight, Thomas." - Was all he got in response.

"Alex-"

"I said, Goodnight." Alexander rolled over on his side, the width of his back in front of Thomas' eyes ending their conversation. 

***

The next morning he received the silent treatment from his bedmate as well as on their drive to work. Thomas tried several times to strike up a conversation but - something during the previous night's argument had made Alexander mad, and he couldn't quite understand what it was. Why was Alex so sensitive about this secret? The hours on the clock were passing by mercilessly. Each second spent apart with the knowledge he had somehow wronged Alex drove him crazy, until sometime past midday, his phone pinged. Jefferson looked at his phone to see it was a text from none other than Alex. 

_**Alexander:** _I'm sorry about last night but - I really can't tell you yet.__

That was it, the silence had been broken, and he couldn't stand the separation any longer. Thomas left his office, not bothering to grab his cane. He barged through the other man's threshold unannounced, locked the door behind himself, and walked towards the shorter man. Hamilton was about to say something but was silenced with a hungry kiss, completely stunning him. 

"We can't do this here, Thomas." 

He tried to protest but kept kissing back, breathless.

"Shut up and kiss me." 

The words left the taller man's mouth for only seconds before he attacked the other's lips once more with ferocity and longing, pushing Alexander onto his mahogany desk. The two made out passionately, the longest they had ever done since that night, and for the first time while being sober, neither could bring themselves to stop or even slow down. They held each other so tight, Alexander's hair tie began to slip. Wisps of hair falling to his face as he held his arms around Thomas's neck so as not to fall - completely flat onto his desk, smothering him with his lips. Their shirts, getting crumpled and untucked from their pants when the distinct sound of the doorknob twisting was heard, the couple freezing in place, terrified. The door - locked, didn't give way but, the knob was pulled again - yielding the same result, then a loud knock was heard until finally, a voice spoke on the other side.

"Meeting in ten, Alex, don't be late." 

Came John's, unmistakably, joyful tone, before his shadow was seen walking away through the frosted glass in the door. 

The tangled mess of their limbs relaxed as the two gave up their impromptu make-out session in favor of the suddenly announced meeting. 

"Goddamnit, Washington." 

Thomas cursed under his breath, making the other laugh, the sound coming out of his throat lightening up Jefferson's mood. The pair stepped away from each other, adjusting their garments. Tucking their shirts back into their pants, fixing up their hair. Making sure they didn't look like they had just tried to rip each other's clothes off, be it from rage or desire, and walked to the meeting room together in complete harmony. They sat down opposite each other as they had done, hundredths of times before mere minutes before their boss walked into the room already full of his staff.

Washington greeted everyone and began the meeting. Given that the whole office was about to be on Christmas break. All this meeting was, was last-minute ends to tie up and finish before everyone would be gone as if they had never existed so, no one was really paying attention. Especially - not Thomas. His body was still racing with excitement and thirst for the man that was sitting across from him but, when he looked the younger man in the face, he saw how pallid the other had turned. It was weird he had seen the same look on his face that morning but thought it was because Alexander was upset with him. Nevertheless - as unimportant as the meeting had seemed, it was still dragging on, everyone becoming increasingly bored with Washington's ramblings.

Every single person in that room was staring at their boss, except for Thomas. Ever since he had noticed the sickly look on his partner's face, he hadn't torn his eyes off - of him. Seeing as a glossy sheen of sweat grew thicker and heavier, gleaming across the other's forehead like diamonds. Not only that, his eyes had gotten drowsy as he wiped a hand across his face presumably, in hopes to keep himself focused. Thomas didn't say a word, not to appear too affectionate in a professional setting but kept staring. Burning holes into the other man's soul; What on earth was happening to him, right in front of Jefferson's eyes? Finally, the older man couldn't do it anymore as he pulled his eyes away only for a second to look at Washington when out of nowhere. Alex ran out of the meeting room, his chair comically spinning - long after he had vacated it, every head in the room looking in that direction confused. Concern automatically rose in the taller man's body but. He didn't know what to do. He looked to the other end of the table, sharing perplexed looks with a particular Frenchman. The look in Lafayette's eyes, telling him the other had no clue what was happening either. Finding his bearing's Thomas raced out of the room in search of his lover - by this point, he had no idea where the other had gone so, he quickly sprinted in the direction of the other man's office shouting his name but-. Before he got there, he heard the distinct sound of someone retching in the adjacent bathroom. Curious, Thomas walked inside to see Alexander's feet peeping out from one of the stalls. He pushed the squeaky wooden door to reveal the younger man on his knees, head in the toilet bowl, vomiting.

"Oh my god, Alex." 

The moment he came to his senses, he tried to help, pulling hair away from Hamilton's face as his hair tie had once again come undone. He worked soothing circles into the other man's back, trying his best to help his body calm down.

"I'm sorry." The Caribbean man tried to apologize, delirious. 

"Wha-, what? None of that, you have nothing to be sorry about." 

Once it seemed it was over, and the brunette was retching nothing but bile, the Virginian picked his lover up and carried him to his personal office. Where he laid him down on the sofa and offered him a drink of water. He wrapped him in a spare blanket that had become a staple of his office mere days ago, just for the two of them. 

"I'm sorry." The shorter man slurred, tired. 

"I'm sorry about last night." 

Thomas hugged and shushed him, leaving a tender kiss on the younger man's forehead. 

"You didn't do anything, Alex. I made you mad it was my fault - I shouldn't have said what I said." The darker-skinned man embraced him holding his forehead with his palm.

"Gosh, you're burning up." 

Alexander leaned into him, closing his eyes.

"What happened back there anyway?"

Seconds of silence filled the room before an answer came.

"I got so nauseous, and I couldn't control it, I just-" 

"It's okay, you're sick, it's alright, Darling, I'll take care of you." Thomas tightened his embrace. 

"I don't feel good." Alex whined. 

"Alright, I'll tell Washington, we're leaving early, and I'll drive you home." 

***

As the taller man had promised, he arranged everything, and soon enough, they were out the door in the direction of Thomas's house. Alexander felt off for the rest of that day. His violent bout of sickness wreaking havoc on his body - as soon as he could, he laid down on the couch and subsequently fell asleep. He woke up, a few hours later feeling marginally better, the Caribbean man sat up, rubbing at his eyes. He was alone. Far away from somewhere within the house, he could hear the sound of some sort of music being played. Alex wandered the halls and walked upstairs, following the sound. It gradually got louder and louder and seemed as if it was coming from the master bedroom. Cautiously the younger man pushed the door open, expecting to see a record player on the dresser. What he saw instead; was - Thomas, sitting in a chair looking out the window into the back garden bathed in black. 

"Thomas?" 

Suddenly the music stopped as the Virginian turned around, startled. 

"Oh, you're awake."

A smile stretched across Thomas's face, his hands dropped to his lap, and it was at that moment Alex noticed the head of a cello was resting on the taller man's shoulder. The brunette walked over and saw a beautiful, evidently old cello resting in his lover's lap. The veneer, worn off in certain places from repetitive use, the wood, faded but still glossy. 

"Did I wake you up? Sorry..." 

"No, no, it's fine." 

The room went silent as Alex sat down on the bed.

"So..." Thomas grabbed the instrument, about to put it away. 

"Wait." The young man stopped him in his tracks.

"Could you play a little more?"

There was a certain innocence in his eyes. After a moment of hesitation, Thomas sat back in the right position, his left hand on the neck and his right holding the bow he began to play a piece that Hamilton couldn't identify. Alexander sat back, admiring the other man's face as Thomas immersed himself in the music. His eyes closed, feeling every note in the deepest recesses of his heart. His body began to sway with the soft and delicate melody. His fingertips, flying across the slender neck up and down with grace and finesse. The music grew quiet as the piece finally ended, and the Virginian opened his eyes to see his partner smiling at him fondly. 

"I didn't know you played."

Alexander spoke softly.

"Well, we've never really talked aside from yelling at each other at work." Jefferson looked down a bit sad.

"And I don't really play that much anymore." 

The shorter man cocked his head to the side. 

"You're a mysterious man, Thomas Jefferson." Thomas chuckled.

"I could say the same about you, _Alexander Hamilton."_

The taller said, putting emphasis on the name while standing up to put his cello away.

Alexander chuckled in return. 

"So, why the impromptu concert, huh?" 

"Hmm, I don't know. It's the time of the year, I guess. The holidays always get me in the mood to play." He sat on the bed. 

"Should I buy a ticket for your next performance?" The younger man's tone of voice turned sultry as he straddled his lover, making him chuckle again. 

"Nah, I think I can get you in for free." 

The Virginian teased, leaving a sweet kiss on Alexander's lips to then be pushed into the mattress as the pair resumed their previously interrupted heated, make-out session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And as always, don't hesitate to leave a comment below.


	8. I was young once too...

The next morning wasn't a nice one, as Alex was still feeling ill at the most random of time, he even almost vomited in bed at five in the morning but somehow managed to keep it down. Nevertheless, he only managed to keep it down for a half-hour before his body rebelled against him and sent him running to the private bathroom, spewing his guts. He tried to be quiet to not wake the person on the other side of the wall, his throat straining, his muscles involuntarily flexing and bile scorching the inside of his mouth, the stench lifting of the latrine burning his nostrils with its toxicity. Once it was over, he stood by the sink just a moment to rinse out his mouth and then sat on the floor feeling like it might happen again, he closed his eyes, tired as the world slowly faded away and he fell asleep against the cold tiled wall. 

Thomas woke up around nine, choosing to sleep in on his first day off with Alex. He woke up well-rested and turned around to hug his lover but, he wasn't there. Confused, the Virginian opened his eyes to see that he was indeed alone. He got out of bed and walked out into the hall to see if he could hear any sounds around the house. Nothing - Jefferson called out into the empty air, waiting, his tongue pushing against the inside of his bottom lip but, he heard nothing in return. Still perplexed, he walked back inside and walked into the bathroom; he jumped at the sight of the sleeping brunette against the wall. He crouched down to shake him awake. 

"Hey, Alex. Darling?" 

The younger man groaned, annoyed.

"What are you doing here?" 

"-was sick again." He mumbled with his eyes closed. 

"Maybe you should go see a doctor, huh?" 

Jefferson held the other man's face delicately. 

"Absolutely not! I'm fine." 

Alexander suddenly seemed to have regained his strength. His eyes opened with determination, and he stood up, walking back to bed for a change of clothes. A sudden burst of energy filled the room as Alex began his day. Getting dressed in haste and going downstairs to make breakfast leaving Thomas; completely stunned behind him. What the hell just happened? Regardless, the taller man decided it was time to start his day; he went about his morning routine and later joined his bedmate in the kitchen. The younger man sat at the bar eating a slice of plain toast. A warm, discarded empty pot of coffee stood by the sink; the older man looked at the scene in front of him, confused but went about making some scrambled eggs. 

"Alex, did you pour a whole fresh pot of coffee down the drain?"

"No." He quickly dismissed. 

"Are you sure?" 

Thomas stopped cutting an onion to look the Caribbean man in the face, he was getting pretty good at telling whether Alexander was lying but, he still needed visual confirmation. 

"I love coffee; Why would I do that?" The younger man stepped away from the bar in direction of the sofa, eating the last bite of his toast. 

He was for sure lying. 

"I don't know..." Jefferson mumbled under his breath, letting the situation go.

He went on about his cooking, cutting various vegetables to mix in with the eggs, he split the meal onto two plates coupled with some buttered bread and put one of the plates in front of Hamilton. 

"Eat." He ordered.

"I'm not hungry." Dismissed the other, staring at his phone. 

"Alex, you haven't eaten since yesterday's lunch, and I'm willing to bet that piece of toast is all you had this morning." 

"Like I said, I'm not hungry."

It was at that moment the brunette's body decided to betray him as the sound of his rumbling stomach was heard. The pair shared a look, making Alex blush, embarrassed. The Virginian sat down next to him.

"Alexander. If you're sick, you have to eat."

"It's just a stomach bug; it'll pass." 

"Oh, so you're just not going to eat for three days, is that it?" 

"If I have to." He grumbled.

"And why did you dump the coffee down the drain?"

"It made me sick." 

"Gosh, you are such a child." Thomas chuckled.

"That's not how it works. You're gonna make this worse if you don't eat." 

He grabbed the plate of eggs to entice the grumpy man on the sofa.

"C'mon, just for me?" He pleaded.

The Caribbean man looked between the plate of eggs and his lover, they looked delicious, and Alex couldn't deny that he was indeed hungry; begrudgingly against all of his mental barriers, he took the plate and began to eat, a fond smile appearing on Thomas's face. 

***

Surprisingly, the day went by pretty smoothly, both of them spending their time together, talking, and just enjoying each other's company on the couch. 

"Would you be down for a road trip?" 

The darker man proposed while the two were watching tv, Alex with his back against Thomas's chest.

"You and road trips?" 

The shorter man had to push himself off and look the other in the face; he couldn't believe his own eyes, questioning brows rose on his forehead.

"Hey! I was young once too, okay?"

"Shut up, you're not that old. You just don't seem like the type of person to enjoy road trips."

"Well, there you go, there's another thing you learned about me, and I haven't learned anything new about you yet. You're so reserved." Jefferson looked at him lovingly.

Hamilton didn't say anything for a moment, thinking it over. 

"And what would you like to know, huh?" He challenged. 

The Virginian hadn't expected it would've been this easy; he didn't have anything prepared. 

"Well... for example. How did you learn french? I've heard you talking with Lafayette a couple of times. You're very good." 

Alexander smiled, amused but also embarrassed by the compliment or rather who it had come from. 

"My mother spoke French; she taught me when I was younger. We would have long conversations just the two of us."

Alex's eyes cast downwards at the mention of his mother; Thomas picked up on it.

"What happened to her?"

"My father left us when I was ten, taking my brother with him; my mother passed away two years later." Slight tears began to brim in his eyes.

"I've been alone since." His voice, breaking on the second to last word. 

Thomas was breaking on the inside at the sight of his lover in pain. The empathy, clearly visible on his face. 

"It's only once I came to America, I found some friends-"

"Wait - you came to America?" The taller man was confused. 

The younger one laughed at his confusion. 

"Yeah." He giggled. 

"I thought you were from New York." 

"No, I'm actually from an island in the Caribbean called Saint Kitts and Nevis." 

"Caribbean, lives in America, and can speak fluent French, look at you, mister worldwide." 

Thomas laughed, Alex; joining in, lifting up his mood from the previous topic.

"See, there's more to you than meets the eye, Alexander. Why are you hiding?" 

"I'm not hiding. It just hasn't come up until now." 

He dismissed it, but on the inside, he knew he would have to tell Thomas everything at some point, especially since they were getting closer and closer. He was going to hurt both of them if he doesn't do it soon. 

"We're digressing. Why did you ask about road trips? Do you have something in mind?" The brunette quizzed.

"As a matter of fact, I do. What would you say about a little trip down to Virginia for Christmas?"

The darker man inched closer to his bedmate, his voice turning seductive. 

"You have peaked my interests. Keep going." Alex encouraged, his own voice mimicking his partner. 

"You. Me. Monticello. Alone for three days."

"Let's go." The excitement in Alexander's voice was palpable.

"Wait? Like, right now?" 

"Yeah! Come on." 

The younger man stood up, pulling Thomas up with him making him stumble. They rushed up the stairs to Thomas's room to pack their bags, but then Alex stilled. 

"What's wrong?"

"I don't really have a bag to pack into; I don't have any clothes." 

"Relax, darling. We won't be sightseeing; you don't have to bring your whole closet, and we can share a bag no problem." 

The shorter man's shoulders dropped at the words letting himself take a breath. Thomas always knew what to say to keep him calm. How could they have missed all of this for so long; was beyond him. Hamilton grabbed him by the nape of the neck for a quick, grateful peck on the lips. In an hour flat, the couple was packed end ready.

"You sure you wanna do this? It's like, a six-hour drive, by the time we get there, it'll be way past midnight."

"It's fine, Thomas. The time we spend in the car is part of the fun too." 

***

The two men got into Thomas's car - and drove off, leaving their regular lives behind them for the blissful idea of spending a few days by themselves with no worries to think about. For the first two hours, not much happened, the drive peaceful and smooth. Thomas kept his eyes on the road flying down the highway, and Alexander tried to turn on some music, sifting through the other man's phone.

"You're sense of music sucks; you only have stuff from like the '20s and '30s to the '60s. Do you listen to anything other than Jazz?" 

Hamilton rolled his eyes at the music library in his hands.  
"I listen to classical music sometimes; If you mean anything from the Billboard top 100, then I'm afraid not." 

The younger man groaned and just turned on the radio instead. 

"You need to broaden your horizons, you know?" 

"Oh really?" The Virginian asked, surprised.

"You schooling me, Frenchie?" 

Alex turned in mock offense.

"If anyone should be called Frenchie here, it's you. I've never even stepped foot in France." 

"Want me to take you?" 

"Yeah, sure. Like that's ever going to happen." He mocked.

"You need to broaden your horizons, you know?" 

Thomas laughed, knowing full well that using Alex's words against him would annoy him to the core. And he was right; the shorter man crossed his arms and sat back without a word. 

"Hey, come on. You know I'm just playing Baby. Do you want me to take you to France? We could do that if you really want to.

Alex kept quiet. 

"Do you wanna meet Lafayette's family?" 

The sudden topic was way too unusual for Alex not to respond. 

"Shouldn't Lafayette come with us if we were to go see his family?" He asked, perplexed.

"If you want him to, then I guess so." 

"Really? You'd be down for that? You, Me, and Lafayette on a trip to France?"

"Why not?" Jefferson raised his shoulders, indifferent. 

"Who are you, and what have you done with my Frenchie?!" Alexander asked, alarmed, gripping tightly onto the passenger door. 

"Is this you, Gilbert? Are you plotting something?" 

A scrutinizing gaze made its way onto the brunette's face, which was the absolute cherry on top for Thomas, making him laugh to no end. His eyes, squinting so hard he almost couldn't see the road in front of him. He was laughing so hard it took him a moment to calm down, taking several big breaths. 

"Are you trying to kill us? I couldn't see the road because of you." The taller man wiped tears away from his eyes. 

"Excuse me, Mister. I'm Too Cool. This side of you is a little scary." 

"What are you talking about? I'm always like that."

"Wasn't it you who said we couldn't have our sleeves rolled up at work?" Alex questioned with an arched brow. 

"Hey, work is work. This is off time. This is the real me, you should ask James." 

"I think not even James knows this side of you. Damn." The darker man chuckled again. 

"Alright, it's getting late. Imma get a cup of coffee, or else I'll fall asleep at the wheel." He spoke as he turned the next exit off the highway into the closest gas station.

Alex stayed in the car after a solid five minutes of telling Thomas; he, in fact, did not want anything from the store and that he would be fine waiting. The night was cold as expected for December, with a fair amount of cars on the highway, everyone going away for the holidays. The car was silent with the faint wooshing by of vehicles passing by the gas station.

After some time, Jefferson finally made it back to the car with a piping hot cup of fresh coffee in his hands. He placed it in the cupholder putting his cane away in the back seat, having needed it to walk to the station. 

"Are you sure you don't want anything? Before... we leave..."

"For the hundredth tim-"

Alex was cut off short by a sudden bout of sickness; he tried to fight it but, it was all in vain. The presence of the freshly brewed coffee was pushing his limits; he fumbled with the door handle and barely took a step out of the car when that morning's eggs made their presence known. 

"Alex, are you okay?!" 

The Virginian rushed to the other side of the car, holding the younger man up so he wouldn't fall over as more of his breakfast reared its ugly head.

He held the smaller man by the shoulders, making soothing circles on his back until it was over. 

"Ugh, fuck." 

Alex cursed as he wiped his mouth clean with his hand without even as much as a single word. He walked to the bathroom, Thomas rushing after him, worried. As the hands on the clock drew closer to midnight, the bathroom was empty, nasty but empty. Alexander now only needed to wash out his mouth so, it would do. The taller man leaned against the door frame watching as his lover stood by the sink, washing his hands. 

"Are we gonna talk about this?" 

"Talk about what?" Alex walked right past him, out the bathroom.

"You're obviously sick; something is going on. Maybe we should go back? This wasn't a good idea. I shouldn't have dragged you into this." 

"Thomas, shut up." 

The two stood, arguing in the parking lot.

"Nothing is going on; this is just a bug. It'll be gone in a couple days." He spoke calmly. 

"It takes two to tango; I wanted this. Now get your ass in the car Frenchie and drive." 

Hamilton got in the car and waited for Thomas to do the same. Without much of a fight. The darker man drank his coffee outside of the car and then drove off, not stopping for the rest of the ride. Weakened by his illness, Alexander fell asleep in the passenger seat. Once they had finally arrived at Monticello sometime past one in the morning, Thomas took pity on the younger man and carried him; from the car to the bedroom. Exhausted by the drive, he decided to call it a night, leaving their bag in the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought.


	9. Monticello

As Alex had expected, the next morning was no fun as he was woken by his sickness once more. He opened his eyes, confused since he was unfamiliar with his surroundings. He couldn't find the toilet so, he spit up in the closest trash can he could find. Bile, being the only thing that came up, his stomach having been emptied the night before. Against his will, he created a lot of rustling, which woke Thomas, the older man, as always scolding him for his denial of his well-being.

"Please, Thomas. Drop it. I don't want to fight. That's not why we're here." 

The words resonated with Jefferson. Hamilton was right; they weren't here to fight. Instead, the Virginian gave up and simply hugged his lover. 

"I just care about you. I can't help being concerned about the one I love." 

Alexander looked up, slight disbelief appearing on his face at the words he had just heard. 

"I love you, Alex." He spoke openly.

The younger man was stupified by the confession.

"I love you too, Thomas." 

The pair stood in the middle of the room half-dressed - holding each other in a light embrace. Their very first _'I love yous'_ uttered and gone in the ether of this room. They smiled at each other, content. 

The silence lingered longer. The two men not being able to tear their gazes off of each other. 

"So, does that mean we're a thing?" The younger man smiled.

"I think we've been _a thing_ for a while now." The darker man laughed.

"Do I call you my boyfriend?" Alex questioned, obviously facetious.

The Virginian cringed at the word. 

"Sounds a bit too juvenile for me; you're my life partner, my mate, my lover. You're my other half, Darling." 

Alexander was practically melting at the adoration in the other man's voice. 

"Come back to bed, huh?" 

Thomas pulled the shorter man along with him, sitting at the edge of the Queen-sized bed. Alexander stood in front of him, holding his lover's face in his hands. 

"I don't deserve you." 

The taller man noticed a twinge appeared on Alex's face when the words left his lips. He was hiding something again, Thomas could tell. But this wasn't something he could just ask and get a straight answer. This was that godforsaken secret the younger man wasn't ready to spill yet. It ached him to keep it for so long but, now was not the time. 

*

The couple cuddled in bed for the rest of that morning, reveling in each other's company. They had only stopped at the request of their stomach's rumbling, Alex understandably reluctant to touch any sort of food but opting to eat _something_ at the request of his partner. They spend their day leisurely, for the first time actually doing nothing together without the pressure of their jobs on their backs. 

"Wanna go for a walk?" The darker man asked, a hand twirling his cane while the two were, enjoying some fresh air out on the top terrace looking out onto the estate. 

Hamilton had figured the place would be big when Thomas had mentioned his other home. But it was huge. He had had the chance to admire the Italian-inspired architecture of the building, the many columns, and arches framing the long white halls. Looking out into the vast, now temporarily dead greenery that lay ahead of him, he wondered just how big it was in its entirety. They left the mansion and began to walk down a small dirt and gravel path. The way led them down, overlooking absolutely gorgeous lands. They walked past some staff houses and sheds, and soon enough, they were passing by where vegetable gardens would grow in the summer. As is - in December, everything was covered in snow, acres upon acres of white coating the grounds around them. During their walk, Hamilton noticed the vegetable garden didn't seem to end.

"Is this all vegetables?" He asked, pointing at the grounds that were already behind them as well as ahead of them. 

The Virginian made a vague noise in approval.

"Monticello is virtually self-sufficient. From Spring to Fall, the gardeners take care of everything. Vegetables and fruits grow here every year, beautifully I might add." 

Alex couldn't tear his eyes away from Thomas. The older man always looked so pleased and proud when talking about gardening.

"I'm vegetarian so, I have all I need here, no need to go to the market, and we store anything that's left, so there's enough for the winter." 

"You have gardeners, cleaning staff. Do you do anything around here?" 

"Unfortunately not." The taller man looked down at their feet, tracking through the snow, his cane, drawing slender lines with every step. 

"I designed it, but that's about it. I don't come here as often as I used to, so I have people take care of it. The little patch in my back garden in New York is enough for me. Besides, this is way too big for one person." He laughed.

Alexander looked around and then back at the mansion in the distance. 

"You designed it? What the hell are you doing working with Washington? You should be an architect or something." 

The taller man laughed again, his round cheeks getting redder with the cold. 

*

They kept walking, hand in hand. After what felt like ages, they had finally reached something new. Alex looked closely at the structures in front of him kept safe by stretches of beautifully ornamented wrought-iron fences.

"Is this a graveyard?" 

"Yes, The Jefferson Family Graveyard. My whole family is buried here, Uncles, Aunts, My parents..." 

They stood in front of the gates, a gold _'J'_ in the middle of it. 

"I thought your parents were alive."

Thomas shook his head. 

"My father died when I was fourteen. My mother passed away four years ago. And when I die-" He sighed. "I'll be buried here too." 

The Caribbean man looked up, examining his partner's face. He couldn't read it; there was no regret, no sadness, no... pity. It was a mix of strange emotions that, on the surface, didn't say anything specific. 

"And what comes after that? Do you have any children to pass it onto?" 

A sudden, loud booming laughter broke through the cold December air.

"Oh, believe me, Alex, If I had any children, you'd know about it." 

Jefferson's amused grin didn't leave his face. 

"No, it'll just get passed onto one of my siblings, I'm sure, and then onto their kids, and so on and so forth. I'm just one of the many owners this place will have." 

The Virginian's indifference irked something inside of the brunette's heart. It's not like he ever wanted children of his own but with all of this history... Wouldn't one want to preserve that legacy? Did Thomas just not care? Did he ever? Those were questions that rolled around Hamilton's head that night. The idea that all of what his lover had accomplished, his legacy would end with him - it made Alex sad. Who would tell stories about him, keep his name alive? His friends will recall all of the good times but, once they're gone, his memory dies with them. And with it will his legacy. All he will be is a name carved into a stone that people won't even come to see. They may not have spent that much time close to the graveyard but, it was enough for him to notice not a single candle was present, not a single flower. The moss overgrowing the headstones; no one had been there in ages. It hurt him to even think that, once Thomas would die, no one would be there to care. 

***

From an outsider's perspective, their time together was boring. They didn't do anything interesting, they didn't go out to dinner or any such thing. Instead, they stayed inside, protected from the frost outside, keeping each other company, talking, and laughing. Simple interactions like these were everything to them right now - in contrast to when they used to hate each other. Every single day they were learning small and simple things about the other that they would've never known. On their second evening at Monticello, they decided to have some drinks. It was special. As they hadn't actually done it since the night, they had proclaimed their affection for each other. As one would imagine, the cellar was full of refined and tasteful wines. They had begun with a glass of Dom Perignon, later opening a bottle of Burgundy. They nursed their drinks, opting to enjoy their evening rather than pass out and forget it the next day. Just after they poured themselves a third drink, the Virginian stood up without a word and left, his cane still resting against the sofa. 

"Thomas?" Alex called out, confused. 

"Hey, where did you go? _Frenchie?"_

He put his glass down on the coffee table and was about to go look for him when the sound of a violin reverberated around the halls. Jefferson emerged from behind the corner, a classic wooden violin on his shoulder, the bow in his right hand dancing skillfully atop of the steel strings. The taller man walked back to the sofa, a wrong note creeping in momentarily. He smiled at his own clumsiness but was at the same time somewhat proud at how well he was doing as he hadn't picked up the instrument in over a year. Alexander watched in awe as his lover played beautifully. This was once again a piece he didn't know, the same one he had heard Thomas play on his cello. The brunette watched the slender hands of his bedmate; fly across the fingerboard up and down, fast and slow, controlled and agitated. All he could think of was how those hands would feel on his skin, delicate and rough, soothing and agonizing all the same. After some more variations, the sudden performance came to an end as the violin was set aside, the previously forgotten glass of wine filling the void between Thomas's fingers.

"Are there any more instruments I should know about?" The younger man asked playfully.

"I'm afraid, this is it." The other chuckled, bashful.

The Caribbean man smiled, wrapping his hands around the other's neck. 

"Please don't sound disappointed, Thomas. You're incredible. I would have never in a million years suspected you're such a brilliant player."

The darker man held him by the waist. 

"It wasn't' that good, I didn't practice-"

"It was perfect." Hamilton shut him up. 

"And what's this piece you play anyway? I don't believe I've ever heard it before."

A moment of silence occurred before he answered.

"It's a piece my mother used to play when I was little. She tried to teach it to me on piano but, I was never any good, so I play it the way I know." 

They exchanged loving gazes, Alexander caressing his cheek.

"I lied when I said winter makes me want to play." 

The younger man frowned at the confession as the older man looked him right in the eyes. 

_"It's you._ You make me feel so happy and passionate. You bring me joy, Alex. Ever since the moment we were together, I find myself doing things I had lost interest in. I hadn't been to Monticello in a year, it always made me sad not to have anyone to share this place with, and now I have you."

If Alex looked closely, he could see Thoma's eyes gleaming. 

"I play this piece because my mom would always play it when she was happy and when you told me that night, you felt something for me. It was as if my world had exploded with fireworks, and all I could hear was that melody in my head." 

An honest and loving smile spread across the Virginian's face before he leaned down and kissed his lover. The kiss; started out simple, and chaste but as time went on and neither of them seemed to want it to end. Their lips, yearning for each other, their kiss turned more passionate and longing. The heat in the room seemed to rise, and hands began to wonder and snake under articles of clothing, their breaths becoming short and hasty. The couple finally let go in need of a deep breath. Before they knew it, they were lying on the big sofa exchanging heated kisses. Their shirts being discarded soon after as their cheeks turned flush from excitement and the alcohol in their blood. Thomas began peppering kisses up Alex's neck, sucking at where his jawline met his ear. 

"You're going to turn into a ladybug tomorrow. _**My** Ladybug."_ He whispered into the younger man's ear. 

Alexander smiled at the visual from the morning after that night, the countless spots a stark contrast to his olive-toned skin. He couldn't wait to see the same marks litter his body the next morning. The hickeys left on his body like a brand, a business card for anyone who happens to spot it. Their hands wandered across each other's bodies, both vaguely remembering the maps they had drunkenly created. Correcting any mistakes their hazy minds might have made. This time was completely different from that night. They were relaxed but clear-headed, not sober but not blackout drunk either. This time every move, every touch, every kiss was happening in real-time. Rather; than feeling like a rollercoaster that left you brainless after the ride. As time went on, their breaths becoming erratic, the heat in the room, becoming unbearable. Their bodies, covered in sweat. Alex could hear his heart beating in his ears. They kissed fervidly, Alexander bitting on Thomas's lower lip, making them swollen and plump. The Virginian straddled him, his large hands traveling from the brunette's shoulders to his stomach. His slender fingers, leaving ghostly trails behind them as he reached for the waistband of his lover's pants. He grabbed the fabric with each hand and undid the button to pull them down, and it was at that moment Alex came to his senses. Scared of what might happen, he stopped and slid from under Thomas, making the other man fall back confused. He scurried off the couch and buttoned his pants back up. 

"I'm not **nearly** drunk enough for this." 

He spoke to himself aloud as he downed the rest of his wine glass, walking in circles next to the coffee table, not knowing what to do. 

"What the fuck? What happened?" 

Thomas didn't understand any of it. 

"I'm sorry, I can't do it, I just can't." He hyperventilated.

"Wha-? Why? We did it last time."

"We were **_drunk,_** Thomas. Hell, I don't even remember any of it. Do you?!"

The darker man didn't answer and looked down at his feet. The pair just stood awkwardly, not knowing where to go from there. 

"I just don't understand what happened? I mean- What happened?" The poor man really was at a loss for words in his confusion.

"I can't, I haven't been honest with you - you don't know everything, we can't do this..." 

The younger man crouched down, frustrated. Thomas kneeled down in front of him, trying to look him in the eye. 

The two looked at each other, Jefferson longing for an answer, Hamilton helpless and torn with his own thoughts. The silence between them dragged on and on. 

"Please?" The taller man held the younger man's hands in his.

"I can see it's hurting you the longer you keep it to yourself. I swear to you - whatever you say, I will not look at you any different than I do now. You can trust me." His black orbs begged. 

The brunette's eyes reflected the plea. You could see the gears in his head considering the idea, emotions flashing across his face. For a moment, Thomas really thought it was going to happen but, no. Bawling, Alex ran, he ran up the stairs and locked himself in the closest bathroom. The Virginian hung his head defeated. 

*

Alex ran into the bathroom and locked the doors behind him. He sat o the ground against the door, his back feeling the coldness of the room on his skin as he realized he was still shirtless. The Caribbean man wrestled with his thoughts. Why couldn't he just tell Thomas? The darker man had just admitted, it wouldn't change anything between them. They loved each other. Didn't they? If they did, then this shouldn't matter. But it did. Lafayette was right. If Alexander wanted this to go anywhere, he had to tell Thomas, their relationship couldn't progress if he didn't. But Alex knew deep inside himself this wasn't that simple - even if he did tell Thomas right then and there, it wouldn't be over. There was no way it wouldn't change things between them. This was too intimate not to change anything. Thomas is so happy; it would surely break his heart. He would leave Alexander, and they would be back to square one. Hating each other, just with the added bonus of bitter resentment. Alex didn't want it to end; their time together was the best he had felt in years. He was selfish. The thought made the younger man physically sick as he spewed his guts in the toilet bowl in front of him. His violent bout of sickness making him even more pathetic as he let out small cries. 

Out of nowhere, there was a light knock on the bathroom door.

"Alex? Babe?" 

More whimpers came through the door.

"Could you open the door, please?"

Nothing. 

"I just want to talk."

"We are talking." Came a small voice. 

"Please? I want to see you when I'm talking to you." 

Silence filled the void between them for several long seconds until the sound of the turning lock was heard. The shorter man opened the door, not even strong enough to look his lover in the eye. Thomas looked at the empty shell that stood in front of him. How was this the same man who had challenged him at every corner for the last five years? 

"I'm sorry, okay? I can see it's hard for you, and I said I'd wait. **I _know_** I said I would wait. I'm trying to be patient but, it hurts me to see you hurt. I know I can't make you do anything; I just want you to know that I'll still wait until you're ready. I won't ask you anymore. I just wish I knew what to do to make you trust me." 

Hearing the words Alex, looked up, his eyes brimming with tears. 

"What are you sorry for? It's me who is fucking everything up. It's my fault." 

More tears spilled from his eyes. The Virginian wiped the tears away with his thumbs holding the younger man's cheeks in his palms. 

"I'm pushing you. We've barely been together for two months, and I keep pushing you to trust me. I keep forgetting we were rivals for so long it must be hard for you to trust me after all these years. You think things will go a certain way because that's all I've given you. But it's not like that anymore. I hope you'll recognize that soon. I just don't want you to hurt." 

Thomas now had tears of his own blurring his vision. 

"No-one goes to bed angry or sad, alright?" 

He blinked, making the tears run down his cheeks, simply for them to be wiped away by the person in front of him.  
Alex's heart was so broken at the sight before him but, he forced a crooked smile across his face. 

"You are a godsend, Thomas. I could never be mad at you like this." 

He stood up on his tippy toes and gave the taller man a delicate peck on the lips. 

"Let's go to sleep, alright?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, let me know what you thought.


	10. Do something!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter is so short but it's just filler for the next one where tish hits the fan. French translations in the end chapter notes

That next and last day at Monticello was filled with tension. Alex woke up feeling like shit. The previous night was still swirling around in his head - his sickness was showing no signs of slowing down. And to top it all off, he had a stomach ache that seemed to come out of nowhere, cramps in his guts that wouldn't let go. 

"Are you ready to go?" Thomas asked once he had packed everything in the car. 

All he got in response was a displeased hum. He hated seeing Alex uncomfortable that way. Being helpless in situations like these, was a horrible feeling. Wanting to help but not knowing how. Their ride back to New York was mostly spent in silence, with Alex sleeping most of the way it was better for him that way.

***

Something had happened between them; for the first time, a crux that couldn't just be talked out had begun to threaten their relationship. And from that point on, things were never the same. As the days passed, Alexander's sickness didn't leave - in fact, it seemed to get worse. He would be sick several times a day for no reason and suffer from abdominal pains regularly. As time passed and his symptoms seemed to get worse - Alex began to lose weight.

His already frail frame didn't help his condition. With the pounds leaving, so did his energy, lethargy setting in after weeks of violent sickness. The longer it went on, the worse he looked, his cheeks becoming hollow, his usual warm olive tone turning as a sickly green, and all Thomas could do was watch. Time and again, he tried to persuade his partner to get help, but he had promised he wouldn't push him, and that meant he wasn't going to take action here too. He feared if he would, Alex would never trust him, and if that happened, everything would be ruined. Their relationship was beginning to struggle, their stubbornness being their worst enemy. The days turned into weeks. New Years had come and gone, Three Kings' day - another week. Alex's birthday was spent alone in his dingy old apartment on his bathroom floor, sick. A _Happy Birthday_ text the only contact with his lover, as he wouldn't risk outing himself. 

Slowly but surely, Alexander tried to hide his sickness to the best he could - he would act like it had gone away and then secretly get sick in the bathroom. Trying to control it at important moments of the day was pure agony, resulting in them spending less time together. Gone were the days of hanging out at Thomas's house. The couple, only seeing each other at work. He couldn't do it anymore. He would've for sure had gotten sick there and would never hear the end of it - it wouldn't be addressed directly, but Hamilton could read between the lines. His friends had noticed too and wouldn't shut up about it; unfortunately, Alexander's stubborn nature didn't stop at his romantic relationships. The man was barely eating anything these days, with the stalest of foods being the only ones he wouldn't barf back up. Plain toast became the only normal thing he could look at without getting nauseous. He would lock his office doors, scared someone would organize a sudden intervention to get him help. Even though, in reality, no-one wanted to deal with a cranky Hamilton. His days were spent working, puking, and working. Once he would get back to his apartment, he would pass out exhausted and dehydrated. 

***

"I just don't understand what happened. I'm there for him. And he pushes me away. I'm sure he's still sick; he just hides it. Have you seen him lately? He's skin and bones." Jefferson complained to his friend. 

"Then why don't you just help him?" Madison sat opposite him, cleaning his glasses, as always. 

"I can't." The remorse in his voice was unmistakable. 

"I promised I wouldn't be obtrusive." 

"Thomas, he's a threat to his own well-being. Surely there must be a way to help him. We may not be friends anymore, but I wouldn't wish him death." 

The Virginian's head jerked up at the notion of his lover dying. 

"Don't even dare suggest that, James." He stood up, getting more and more high-strung. 

He paced the room back and forth, his mind preoccupied. He paced so much, you would've thought the floor would have a trail etched into it by now. Madison was about to make a suggestion when Thomas just opened the door and left, leaving his friend speechless in his empty office.

***

He may not be able to do anything, but there was someone that could. Frankly, it was a mystery how it hadn't happened yet. 

"Get your ass in Alex's office and do something, now!" He barged into Lafayette's office. 

The Frenchman was stunned by the sudden command. 

"What?" 

"You heard me. Go and get him help. Force him to a hospital, I don't know. Do something." 

Jefferson was losing his mind. 

"Pourquoi Moi? Why don't you do it? Besides, you know how stubborn Alex is. I already tried." 

"I can't, I promised. I made a stupid promise." The words leaving his throat were strained with guilt.

The Marquis was astounded by what he saw. 

"Oh, so what? Now it's my job to clean up your mess?"

"No! I just-" He was voiceless.

 _"This is me doing something about it._ You understand? I can't do anything directly, so I am asking you. Please help him."

A voice crack crept in as if for added drama. The Frenchman could clearly see how helpless his long-time friend was, at absolute wit's end.

"Gilbert, Je t'en prie..." 

That was it. Thomas would have never addressed him by one of his first names if it didn't mean everything to him. Not only that - he was begging in french. This was a new low for Thomas. The Marquis's heart clenched at the sight in front of him for the first time since he had learned of his colleague's relationship. Actually feeling some empathy towards his friend rather than - animosity. Lafayette left his office in the direction of Alexander's. And that was the last Thomas had heard of him that day. 

It was the last he had heard of him for the rest of the week. Neither he nor Hamilton came to work, which stressed Thomas out even more. He left countless messages on Alex's voicemail, sent dozens of texts, but none were answered. _Always left on read._ He felt pathetic every time he looked at the chain of unanswered pleas for some kind of sign of life. After several long days in anticipation, finally. The taller man had spotted the Frenchman walking in the hallways. He called out after him. Nothing. Eager to learn at least some information about his lover's condition, he began to run after him. The other acting as if he didn't hear him at all. Just as Jefferson was about to stop him, Lafayette entered his office and locked the door. What? Thomas was confused, completely taken aback. What the hell is going on? Are they both just conspiring against him? Why was his friend avoiding him now? And why wasn't his partner willing to talk to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Pourquoi Moi?" - Why me?
> 
> "Gilbert, Je t'en prie..." - Gilbert, I beg you...
> 
> What do you think happens next?


	11. A Whole Other Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French translation in the end chapter notes.

Things around the office had become pretty gloomy. Alex had suddenly cut all ties with Thomas, not even answering his emails. And his long-time friend was now avoiding him like the plague. Madison's words began to swirl around in his head again. Was it true? Were they just in a honeymoon phase? A state of bliss? Was it all just a bunch of lies? Had it now come to an end, and at the very first sign of struggle, they didn't make it? No, that can't be. Would Alex really just shut him out like that? He loved him. Didn't he? After what had happened at Monticello, maybe Alexander saw something that changed his mind? Was it all too much? Was Thomas too overbearing? Endless questions were swimming around in his head - day after day. Thomas replayed every conversation, every interaction, searching for clues as to what might have provoked this. What could he have done differently? Was it something he had said or done? He tried looking through all his faults. 

A week without seeing Alex at work and Thomas began to be miserable. He wouldn't leave his office, not even for meetings - he didn't want to go sit in that seat to the left of Washington and have to stare at the empty chair in front of him. Preferably, waiting for James to fill him in on what was discussed. He wouldn't come out to the break room, not even bothering to have coffee. He would stay more and more, long past midnight, thinking that if he engulfed himself in his work, he would stop thinking about it, that he would stop thinking about Alex but no. No matter what he did, his mind always reverted back to the same topic, the same person. The Virginian would find himself looking over documents and then notice droplets on the paper to then realize they were his own tears. What went wrong? Why had Alex cut him off? He still wasn't answering his text or responding to his emails. If Thomas had done something wrong. Why wouldn't Alex say so and say, what was the problem?  
The week after that Thomas, stopped caring. If Alex didn't give a damn about him, then why should he? He didn't have anyone whom he had to impress. It didn't matter anymore. He'd come back home and forgo the shower. He'd skip workdays; he had enough work done ahead of time that he could just not show up. When he would indeed show up to work, people stared. What had happened to Jefferson? His clothes were disheveled, his face tired - dark circles under his eyes, hair unwashed, matted. Gone were the days of the expertly trimmed beard as he let his facial hair grown into an untamed bush. When he walked, he would lean more on his cane, not even willing to walk. Why was he even still going to work? He had enough cash to throw it all out of the window, say "Fuck it!" and retire. He began to drink in the evening. _Every-evening._ Sometimes he would even forget to eat. He had noticed the way Lafayette looked at him when he thought Thomas didn't see; this look of disgust etched into his features.

Close to a month after he had last seen Hamilton, Jefferson gave up. He had been asked by Washington to attend a meeting, and the whole time he did not lift his gaze from that cursed chair. In fact, at some point. He just got up without a word and slowly left the room as everyone watched, not even questioning his behavior any longer. He left the meeting room and decided there was no point anymore. His job sucked. His closest friend was condescending and kept nagging him with _I told you so's._ His long-time friend, who he had considered family, hated him now, and the love of his life had left him with no reason whatsoever. He was a lowlife. 

As he packed his bag to leave early, he could hear someone run into his office and lock the door behind them. He didn't pay it any mind and just kept packing. 

"Qu'est-ce que tu es en train de faire?!" Said a suprised french accent. 

"And why the hell would you care?"

He slurred, not even turning around to look at who had spoken. He didn't have to, he knew exactly, who was behind his back, and frankly, he didn't want to see him, didn't want to look back into those judgemental eyes.

"Thomas, it isn't that simple." 

"Oh yeah, right. Fuck you. I asked you to do something. And look what happened." He spoke, miserable.

"I don't even fucking care anymore. I don't want to hear anything about it, okay? Fuck this, fuck you, and goodbye! I'm leaving."

He tried to step towards the door but, the Frenchman wouldn't let him go.

"Thomas, sit down. We need to talk." 

"We don't need to do shit. You and your stare..." His voice toned down towards the end. 

"What? What stare?" The Marquis was confused. 

"Don't act like you're a fucking saint, okay? Lafayette. I see the way you look at me in the hallways, disgusted. Yeah, well, thank you very much. I wouldn't look like this if you hadn't done whatever the fuck you did."

The Frenchman stared stupified at his friend. 

"I- I- Thomas. I have never thought about you that way. I was mad at myself. I saw your decline, and I was just angry and disgusted with myself because I let it happen. I care about you Thomas, I've known you since I was ten. You're like a brother to me. Don't even dare think for a second that I don't care about you." Jefferson stared, mad at his friend, processing his words. He took a couple of breaths, calming himself down.

"What do you want?" 

"You have to talk with Alex." 

"Oh, fuck that, I've had enough of this-" 

He tried pushing past him, Lafayette firmly holding his grounds.

"Non! Tu ne vas nulle part. Sit down."

The Marquis pushed his friend into his office hair.

"You have to go and talk with him, you're miserable because of him, and he's miserable without you." 

The last three words took Thomas aback. Alex was miserable? Without him? 

"You're just saying that, so I'll go and talk to him." 

"No, I swear, he misses you. He sees all the messages you've sent; it crushed him when you stopped texting." 

"THEN WHY THE FUCK WON'T HE FUCKING ANSWER?!" He shouted at the Frenchman's face, tears spilling out of his eyes, the pain in his voice choking him out. 

"Because he's scared." Lafayette answer quietly. 

Thomas blinked a couple of times, shaking his head. 

"Scared of what?" 

"He's scared to lose you, he's scared you'll stop loving him, he's scared you'll be disgusted with him once you know the truth." 

Jefferson looked at his friend, scrunching his face and biting his lower lip, his expression full of pain and confusion.

"What truth?" He asked, exhausted by the whole ordeal. 

"That's not for me to tell."

The two men stopped talking, letting the air marinade around them. 

"Is he okay at least? Does he still get sick?" He asked after a while. 

"He's still sick sometimes but, it'll go away soon. He's healthy. I got him all fixed up but, he asked me not to tell you anything. That's why I've been avoiding you; I had to keep a promise."

"Then why are you doing this?" 

"Because I can't keep standing back, seeing the two of you be completely broken and not do anything about it."

"So you know what happened?" 

"I do but, I can't tell you. He has to explain everything." 

"This is that goddamned secret, isn't it? You knew this whole time." He stood up somewhat angry. 

"Hey, don't blame this on me. I told him to tell you. He's the stubborn ass that didn't. Now, this is a whole other beast." 

"What do you mean?" He frowned. 

***

The two men walked up to the door of the Caribbean man's apartment. 

"He hasn't gone out in a month; I've been bringing him groceries and whatever else he needs."

The Frenchman knocked. 

"Alexandre, ouvre. C'est moi." 

They waited until a moment later the locks clicked, the doorknob twisted, and the door creaked open, only revealing a tired olive-toned face. Pure fear flashed across the younger man's face as he spotted his lover. In a split second, he tried to shut the door but, Lafayette pushed them open again. The Marquis walked in, urging Thomas to do the same - once he was inside, the Frenchman walked out the door leaving the two men to talk in private. Alexander stood in the middle of his apartment, fidgeting, not knowing what to do when faced with the person he'd been avoiding for several weeks at this point. The pair stood, eight feet apart, uncomfortable - Thomas leaning heavily on his cane. In the span of a month, they had become complete strangers, both having changed physically. They watched each other closely, examining who the other had become. They both looked pathetic; that wasn't the question. 

Thomas was a mess, wearing a plain grey, wrinkled two-piece suit. His hair a shadow of its former poofy self, his face oily and tired, his beard so full it made his face look round despite his hollow cheeks brought on by drinking in exchange for eating. Alexander had a permanent sadness etched on his face. His hair was shiny and well taken care of, his skin looking good regardless of the eyebags he was sporting. His goatee was well-trimmed, and his face was fuller than the last time the Virginian had seen him. He was wearing a shirt two sizes too large that definitely didn't belong to him and a pair of worn-out sweat pants. 

"Hi..." Alex let out a scared shaky breath. 

"Hi." Thomas answered, stoic on the surface but breaking on the inside. 

The younger man stared longer at the scaffolding of a human that stood in front of him. He knew why Thomas's looked that way. It was his fault but, he hadn't thought it would be that bad. 

"I like the beard." He stammered. 

"Thanks." The corner of Thomas's lips twitched, not expecting the compliment. 

Another drawn-out pause. 

"You look good." The taller man offered. 

Alex chuckled, averting his eyes. 

The shorter man was the first one to take a step forward. Thomas didn't move. He took another one and again, the other didn't move but, on the third step, it was Thomas who took it first. They were now three feet apart, every detail on their face visible. Down to the pores on their noses and the pain in their eyes - they could see it all. 

"Why?" That's all Thomas wanted to know. 

Alex sighed heavily. He didn't want to be doing this but, he had to. He hung his head low. 

"You are not going to like this." 

There it was again, the self-deprecation. 

The taller man said nothing, only waiting for the answer he had been dying to hear for so long. 

"You remember when you and Adams had that stupid fight, and you made up rumors about each other?" He didn't know how to start his explanation.

"Yeah but, John and I are fine now..." 

"Do you remember the rumors you said about him?" 

"Alex, that was ages ago. Where are you going with this?" He answered, perplexed.

"You called him a hermaphrodite." 

"Okay, what of it?" The older man was thoroughly confused.

Alex gulped hard before he spoke. 

"I'm no rumor. I'm the real deal..." 

The shorter man didn't elaborate, instead choosing to let Thomas figure it out. The taller man shook his head at first, not understanding. He went through their conversation once more in his mind, and then it clicked. His eyebrows didn't know if they should frown in confusion or raise up in surprise. It was like someone had punched him in the gut. 

"I understand if you want to leave." 

The younger man spoke with his head down in shame. Thomas was still trying to wrap his mind around what he had just learned. His emotions were confounded but, one thing he did know. 

"Why would I leave?" 

"I'm a freak. I'm disgusting. Why would you want to stay with me?" 

The Virginian walked closer; Alex took a step back but, Thomas grabbed ahold of his forearms, keeping him in place. 

"Alex." He looked the Caribbean man straight in the eye.

"I love you for you, not for what's between your legs. You make me so happy just by standing right in front of me." 

Alex didn't know what to say, his own distorted self-image clashing with what Thomas was telling him. 

"You made me so scared when you got so sick and pale. You looked like you'd fall over if the wind blew on you a little too hard." 

He chuckled but, it was more to hide his sadness rather than actually be funny. Alexander shared his pained expression. 

"It hurt so much to see you so frail, and you wouldn't listen to me; you wouldn't get help! Why are you so damned stubborn?!" Tears rose to the surface.

"I'm so sorry." Was all Alex could say. 

"I was so scared. I just didn't want to ruin what we had." 

"You don't have to be scared though, this doesn't change things. I told you whatever you say, I would not look at you any different."

_"But it does!"_

Alex tore away from the taller man's grip, stepping back. His face was on the verge of completely breaking down, fat tears rolling down his face. 

"Thomas... We're gonna have a baby." 

He choked on the words. One of his hands, delicately resting on his stomach, protectively. The loose fabric getting caught on his fingers, making the slightest shape of a bump appear under his hand. 

Thomas looked down at that hand and what was underneath it. His face, cycling through fury, terror, and happiness all in one. He walked up to his lover tentatively, resting his palm on the younger man's stomach. His movements slow and timid, as if he was afraid he'd break him. They stood in silence, their hands resting together on the small mound. They could hear each other's heavy breathing. Alex looked Thomas in the face but, he couldn't tell what the other was thinking. 

"Say something, please." The silence was killing him. 

"How?" The other man's voice quivered. 

Alexander looked down, grabbed Thomas's hand that lay on his stomach, and looked back up into his eyes. 

"I don't know... I didn't think it was possible." 

Thomas grabbed the hem of the brunette's shirt, lifting it up, revealing the small swell. It wasn't much, but it was there. It didn't match the maps Thomas had in his head. The olive-toned, smooth skin was still soft but, there was something hard deep underneath. He laid his palm directly on the skin, feeling the warmth it was exuding and a smile stretched across his face. Full of disbelief, and wonder he chuckled, his smile getting wider and wider. 

"I was gonna get rid of it but, I couldn't do it. I couldn't..." The younger man sobbed. 

Thomas dropped his hands, stepping away, a furious brow on his face. 

"You weren't going to tell me?" 

"I didn't know what to do Thomas, I never wanted kids. I sure as hell didn't think I'd be the one carrying them." 

The Virginian didn't want to believe what he had just heard. 

"How long have you known?" 

"A month or so..." 

"A _MONTH?!_ And you weren't going to tell me?" He was absolutely livid. 

He began to pace the room, trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened, his cane clicking with every step. He paced, faster and faster, and eventually throwing his cane on the floor, angry. 

"We are going to have a kid, and you were going to keep that to yourself?! Not only that, you were going to **_kill it?!_** Don't you think I would've wanted to know? That I might want to be a part of this?"

He kept pacing, his steps getting faster with his anger, he began to limp.

"So if Lafayette hadn't dragged me here today, you would've just gone about your merry fucking way? With my bastard?"

"Please, don't call it that." The words were barely audible.

"And live your best life, huh? While I'm here miserable."

"It's not that simple." 

Thomas kept shouting over his words. 

"Oh, it's not that simple. That's all I ever hear you say - _It's not that simple._ Don't you think I would've wanted a say in the matter?!" 

He finally stopped pacing, shouting the last words at the top of his lungs right in Alex's face.

Alexander broke down, completely shattered, he fell to the ground bawling, his face buried in his knees.

"I'm so sorry, Thomas, I was scared I didn't know what to do. I was so fucking scared." 

He was hyperventilating, his sobs making it hard to understand what he was babbling. Thomas looked down at the shaking ball on the floor, and part of him broke. He was still angry but, somewhere deep inside him, his love for the helpless heap of Alexander on the floor was far too great. He wanted to hate him but, he couldn't. The taller man kneeled down in front of him and laid one of his hands on his back. The shorter man's body shook violently; as he sobbed hard. The darker man let him cry it out for as long as he needed, waiting until the harsh sobs were replaced by long heavy breaths. He grabbed him by the shoulders and helped him sit up straight. His face was a wreck, red and full of snot - he kept crying. Alex looked up, confused. Why was Thomas still there? All the taller man did was hold his face in his hands as he wiped the salty tears away and embraced him. They weren't okay but, somehow, they knew right as they sat there, hugging on the floor, things would get better. Not right away, but they would get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Qu'est-ce que tu es en train de faire?!" - What are you doing?!
> 
> "Non! Tu ne vas nulle part." - No, you're not going anywhere.
> 
> "Alexandre, ouvre. C'est moi." - Alexander, open. It's me.
> 
> And of course, let me know what you thought.


End file.
